


Pigment & Clay

by Scaramedn



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Artist Nick Wilde, Professor Savage, Student Judy, wildehopps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scaramedn/pseuds/Scaramedn
Summary: When an overworked art student meets one of art world's heavy hitters, what could possibly happen? Answering an ad brings Judy face to face with the famous sculptor Nicolas Wilde. Now, she's finding that creating art is more than skill; it's an artist's inner passions come to life. The only question is, what else will she find as she delves into the mind of the enigmatic fox.





	1. Chapter 1

Doctor Alonzo Mousekewitz had retired from the art world and his career as a minor artist for three reasons. The first was he’d never been a notable success as an artist. His painting career hadn’t been terrible, but no one would ever write a biography about him. Instead, he chose to leave the art to the artists and engage in the second reason; a teaching post at Zootopia University that was offered contingent upon completing his doctorate in Art History at the same institution. It was hardly a chore to put down the pallet and become an academic. He did still have his experience in art to call upon and it lent him some small fringe benefits. For instance, indulging in an occasional bit of recreational painting on the University’s bankroll and mentoring young, promising artists.

 

That coincided with the third reason; passion. He had once witnessed true artistic passion once and only once. The event occurred when he had gone to a workshop which boasted a demonstration by Nicolas Wilde. The workshop had been packed with mammals eager to see the famous sculptor work. Known for his sharp wit and oft times acerbic commentary, the renowned artist hadn’t said a word. He’d simply addressed the assembled spectators with a small bow and turned his attention to the blob of clay on the work surface. What followed was, in Alonzo’s opinion, not a demonstration of artistic skill, so much as an assault. The focus and emotion the fox exhibited while he worked was the polar opposite to his famed placid demeanor. He attacked the clay as though he were a hateful lover, or a tender sadist.

 

The result, thirty minutes later, was the tipping point in his decision to give up art as a professional endeavor. After seeing such a display of prowess and expression, he knew he would be better off teaching. His art would never compare.

 

In the four years since then, Alonzo had been privileged to oversee the development of several score of young artists, but none had displayed the same passion, or drive as he had seen in thirty minutes of a fox beating a blob of earth into something exquisitely beautiful. That was, of course, until this morning when he had walked into his studio space to find his most irritating student at her easel, attacking the canvas as though she intended to murder it, a look of comingled fury, delight and hunger plastered across her little grey muzzle.

 

Rather than speak, lest he break the spell of her maniacal fervor, he elected to sit and watch.

 

It was an irony, he thought, that only a handful of months ago he had all but written her off as another drone-artist. She had the talent to create and skills which were blooming, but no drive, or ambition. No aspiration. No inspiration. Just a deep love for the crafting. So many like her had been destined for mediocrity, or the ignominious ending of the hobby artist, like himself. However, now he was tentatively hopeful. There was a feeling of immanence to the moment he found himself in. Doctor Mousekewitz dared to think for a breath that he was witnessing something that history would cherish... the start of a masterful artist’s career; a second Nicolas Wilde. He smiled, rather dopily he imagined, at the fact that he had not long ago banned her from the studio.

 

~

 

“Please, sir!”

 

“No.”

 

“Please! I promise, I’ll replace the materials I’ve used.”

 

“The paints and supplies you’ve expended are of little account to me. The University provides them in exchange for your tuition.”

 

“Then, why are you kicking me out? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

 

The flat look her department-assigned mentor gave her told the young rabbit that there was no way he was falling for the dumb-bunny routine. She sighed and collected her jacket and satchel on her way to the door.

 

It was midway through her fourth semester at ZU that Judy was forced to admit she was burning out. Art had been her passion since she was a kit. Color and composition, use of light and shadows, texture and expression. Her mediums had been paint and collage all her life. She had talent. That wasn’t to say there wasn’t work involved in her art. There was. A lot. Too much, according to her academic advisor and art mentor.  
  
Art was her life. Creation. Expression. Passion!  
  
Narcolepsy.  
  
Classes and projects consumed her time, often leaving her too exhausted to make it back to the overcrowded apartment she shared with some of her siblings and friends. After the fifth week of finding her asleep on the couch in his studio, her mentor kicked her out until she relearned what it meant to have “a work-life balance”, as he put it. Her advisor echoed the sentiment, citing the less than normal grades she’d gotten on her previous set of submissions.  
  
They weren’t wrong. She was loathe to admit it, but her work was slipping because she was too worn out. Her mentor demanded a week without seeing so much as a whisker and all her supplies were at his studio. She couldn’t work on anything. A week’s holiday sounded lovely, but she knew she’d be antsy before the second day ended and she’d need to at least draw, or do something; all of which were forbidden at present.  
  
She trudged away from the studio unhappily, pausing only when she found herself by the university bulletin board. It was cluttered to the point of absurdity, as usual.  
  
Judy rarely paid it any mind, but she had nothing else to do and she was already feeling the absence of a creative outlet.  
  
The abused cork board was covered in the usual hodgepodge of fliers. Psychology students needing volunteers for a study. A rally for the team on Friday night. Parties advertised at various locales. Nothing appealing. She didn’t fancy herself as a test subject. Sports weren’t her thing. Drunken hijinks and the subsequent hangovers had lost their appeal after maybe the first two weeks of her first year. There was nothing that would help her relax. In a fit of offhanded curiosity, she glanced at the small section reserved for non-academic related postings.  
  
Normally, the space was covered, overshadowed by dozens of other sheets, but someone had cleaned up the overhangs, leaving the small selection of index cards somewhat visible.  
  
Two requests for help with moving apartments, which were already out of date; a few rooms-to-let postings; a lost bag notification; and a small blue card. The card caught her eye. Not only as it the only tastefully colored piece of cardstock on the board, but it was a collection of strange, subtly interesting clues. A tiny blotch of oil or paint in a corner. Some scorching along the edge. A film of pigment, no, clay! Something screamed “artist” to her. It was only then that she read the actual text and felt a little silly.  
  
Model wanted  
Regular/semi-regular work  
Hours, pay & scope of work negotiable  
Call: xx-xxx-xxxx-xxxx  
  
Judy had no desire to be a model. She thought she was rather dowdy by most standards. Not at all what an artist would want as a subject for their work. However, she needed something artistic to tide her over. It would also be nice to get a little extra cash. She was running lower than she liked on some of her pigments and working at the student center was barely enough.  
  
Figuring it never hurt to try, Judy pulled out her phone and called the number. It picked up on the fifth ring.  
  
The voice was soft and velvety with an undercurrent of irritation. “Sanchez, I told you the new piece will be ready Thursday.”  
  
“Um, Hello?”  
  
“Oh! Apologies. I thought you were someone unpleasant.”  
  
“No problem. My name is Judy Hopps. I’m calling about the modeling job posted at the university?”  
  
“Excellent! The board down the street from the co-op and student union, correct?”  
  
“Um, yeah.”  
  
Judy heard someone else’s comment floating in the background,  “I told you that was a good spot,” followed by a mumbled, “Go back to your welding, Jack,” before the voice returned to her. “Are you available to meet to discuss the position?”  
  
“Yes, but I’d prefer sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Music to my ears. Are you still by the bulletin board, by any chance?”  
  
“Yes. I just found your card a moment ago.”  
  
“Perfect. Head past the food trucks behind the board to Fleece Street and turn right. Three blocks down is Safflower Lane. Take a left there. It’ll be the old stone house on the left side with the long driveway and hydrangeas out front. Think you can find it?”  
  
“We’ll know in ten minutes.”  
  
A sharp bark of laughter surprised her as it popped out of her phone’s speaker, followed by, “Sounds good.” Then the line went dead. Judy wasn't unused to the eccentricities of her fellow artists, so the abrupt end to the call wasn’t a shock to her. She’d obviously interrupted whoever it was while they were working.  
  


~

  
She’d been partly sarcastic when she’d responded to the voice asking if she could find the place. Safflower Lane was a byword among local artists and art students. Several famous talents lived or had studio spaces on that street. The chance she’d taken on the call was now looking like a much better investment of her time. A well-known or influential artist would be invaluable as a contact down the road. She just had to make a good impression and hope for the best.

 

~  
  


On the other end of the call, a paw lingered for a moment on the receiver of the old-style rotary phone.

 

It was a red-furred paw; strong and calloused, used to hard work, and mottled with clay in various stages of drying. A good soak and scrub would remove most of the earthy substances, but the smell would never leaver, not after so many years. Of course, the scent of earth and water would never leave his paws so long as he had breath in him and the strength to create, much like the paws that draped across his chest from behind moments after he hung up would never lose their scent of scorched metal and ozone.

 

Nick leaned back into his well-worn couch as he enjoyed the casual affection of his housemate. He and Jack had lived together for years, now. Their relationship was more than friends, but not quite definable as lovers. They were each other’s support, of sorts; close in that particular way that only kindred spirits could be. He had never ‘dated’ his lapidae cohabitator in the traditional sense, but that wasn’t to say they didn’t have a certain degree of familiarity with each other. He was not one to shy away from affection, regardless of its form, with a mammal he trusted. The ease of long-familiarity had certain advantages after all, among them, trust. Otherwise, Nick would never willingly share his space, let alone the secret of his inspiration.

 

As Nick gazed at his latest work, he sighed contentedly.

 

“I see you’re pleased with this piece. Who was on the phone?”

 

“A potential model,” replied the fox.

 

“How intriguing,” Jack murmured as he nuzzled into the fox’s shoulder.

 

“Not now, honey bunny.”  
  
“Yes, yes. I know how you are when you work.”  


“I’m more worried about your suit.” Nick was not surprised in the least when the other mammal pulled away. “I assume your class went well?”

 

Jack nodded as he began disrobing.

 

”I just finished with Celeste. I’m almost done for the day,” Nick commented as he gazed with familiar-fascination at the impromptu strip-tease.  


“You always say that.” A tiny, almost delicate, snort escaped from Jack as he met the eyes of his companion.  


“I mean it,” Nick insisted, placing a paw over his heart. “Celeste is cleaning up. She’ll leave once she’s finished her shower. All I have left is this interview. I’ll wrap up and I’ll take you out to dinner.”  


“I’d rather stay in, tonight.”  


“Your lecture was that taxing?”  


“Just a molly who wanted a little time after class,” Jack grumbled lightly.  


“The same one?” Nick enquired, though he suspect he already knew the answer.  


“Of course.”  


“Persistent, isn’t she?”  


“Much like your current muse,” Jack chortled eyeing the washroom currently in use.  


“Her interest is in you, not I.” Nick smirked slightly at the expression Jack made in return.  


“You’re a terrible liar,” Jack retorted, ignoring the knowing look he was on the receiving end of and countering it with one of his own. “Perhaps we should have her join us for dinner.”

 

“Didn’t you want to stay in?”  


“I do,” Jack answered with a puckish grin.  


Nick chuckled as the rabbit edged closer. “No leading mammals on, Jack. We agreed.”  


Jack feigned innocence as he leaned his partially nude form into the fox. “Who said we were going to be leading anyone on?”  


Nick arched a brow at that. “Finally developed a taste for females, have we?”   


“I have a taste for females. I simply have high standards. I just want to... enjoy the view.” Jack nuzzled into the fox’s jaw before peeking up at him from beneath the dark fringe of his lashes.  “You know how I love watching you work.”  


Offering up a toothy grin in reply, Nick subtly adjusted his posture. “You and your strange voyeuristic streak... I’ll ask. Maybe for the weekend? I need some inspiration for the next piece.”  


“Good boy,” praised Jack, not bothering to hide the satisfied curve of his muzzle. “The piece for the corporate drone?”  


“Architect,” Nick corrected.

 

“Ah. The drone was for his boss’ wife, wasn’t it?”

 

“I don’t do busts. I sent him packing.”  


Jack once again began nuzzling, burrowing with his nose until he found the skin beneath the fox’s ruff. “Very good boy!”

 

“Very,” Nick reached out to gather a pawful of fluffy tail only to have Jack slip away from him with a wink.  
  
Grinning, Jack left the room to finish getting changed. Nick chuckled and tossed a sheet over his current project before heading to the kitchen to make coffee as he waited for his appointment to show up. The French press was ready to plunge when his sharp hearing alerted him to someone at the door. It was nothing that could be named. More a collection of small tells; an overture to the grand symphony. The sound of scuffing on the stone stairs, a paw’s pressure making the bannister groan lightly and the windchimes that everyone taller than a stoat ran into were enough to give it away.

 

Nick loved meeting new people. They always presented a new perspective and a new puzzle; things that broadened his world and added to his art. He quickly depressed the plunger for the coffee and set it on the table with his mug and a smaller cup. Upon reflection, he went with a much smaller one. He suspected his visitor to be of petite stature. Once that was done, all he had to do was wait.

 

~

 

Judy was a touch anxious. Disregarding the fact that she was at the home of a mammal she’d never met before, this was Safflower Lane. She hadn’t thought about it past the practicality of it at the time, but this was Safflower Lane! This one shaded street that stretched between the university and the market district housed some of the most famed and respected artists in the city. Many had international renown. She was standing at the door to one of their homes.

 

Potentially.

 

Not every mammal who resided on the Lane was an artist and of those that were, not all were famous. It was entirely possible that she was about to meet a garden variety dabbler who wanted to stare at a college girl in the nude while pretending to sketch. There were plenty of cautionary tales floating about, after all.

 

The more she thought about it, the more Judy was inclined to question the sense of setting up this little interview. She was only banned from the studio for three weeks. She could do some pickup work at the greenhouses for the agricultural school, or go back to the library for a bit. They’d be happy to have an extra pair of paws to help with the shelving; and shooing amorous freshmen out of the stacks. She was sorely tempted, now that she had arrived, to just blow it off. However, the chance it was a genuine name in the artworld had her hesitating. Even a decent conversation with a major artist could be helpful to her in the long run, motivationally, if nothing else.

 

Mentally shaking herself, Judy shelved her mental ping-pong. It was getting her nowhere. She’d know in seconds if the guy was a creep and she’d be on her way. Worst case scenario, she had a good kick and he had testicles. If he didn’t a knee would suffice.

 

Reaching up, Judy rapped smartly on the wooden door and was immediately surprised to hear chuckling from the other side. The door swung open and time seemed to lose its significance on her reality. Standing in front of her was a red fox. He was bare chested and a bit disheveled, covered in spatters of clay.

 

“I was wondering if you were going to knock, or lose your nerve.”

 

“You’re…”

 

He extended a paw. “Nick Wilde. Please, excuse the mess.”

 

Judy reflexively took his paw and shook. “Sorry?”

 

“My paw. The clay?”

 

“Oh!” Judy flushed in embarrassment at being so slow on the uptake. “It’s no trouble. I’m the same way with paint.”

 

“A fellow artist!” Nick’s smile deepened, as did Judy’s nervousness. “Come in.”

 

Her host directed her to the kitchen table where she sat. The table was low for him, but just about perfect for her. Judy seated herself and watched as the fox made a pot of coffee. She could hardly believe it.

 

Nicolas P. Wilde’s sculptures were prized, often the crowning jewels of whatever collection or gallery they were a part of. His “falling” pieces were especially famous. Somehow, he managed to create in clay the distinct sense of falling, or floating. Angels, characters from myth and legend, famous historical moments and classic romances were the subjects of his usual work. He was well known for cloth-draped forms, odd-yet-graceful body positioning and depictions of distress and release or escape. His ‘Divine Mysteries’ series presented a view of ecstatic suffering from obscure myths that had set the artworld ablaze.

 

Then, a few years ago, The Museum of Modern Art, in the old part of the city, received a donation from the enigmatic artist that changed everything. It was a spectacular piece depicting the escape of a minor earth goddess from her imprisonment in the underworld, which marked the coming of spring; a glorious confection of feathers, flower petals, and flowing cloth, the sculpture’s crowning achievement was the expression of bliss on the goddess’ face. It was also the first Wilde that required suspension for display. The museum had panicked initially, but eventually got the gallery upgraded to handle the new addition. It had been the crowning glory of the museum wing since, hanging proudly in the spotlight.

 

Here he was, standing half-naked in front of her, humming to himself as he worked. Her situation could only have been more surreal if there were a melting clock on the wall. When, she glanced over, she saw a novelty melting clock on the wall. Her chuckling got his attention.

 

“Something funny?”

 

“Your clock. I was just thinking this was as surreal as it gets, then I saw it.”

 

“You find this surreal?”

 

“A little?” Judy replied bashfully. Then, when he didn’t respond, she blurted, “Oh, come on! I think it’s surreal that a world-famous artist like you opens the door half naked after I answer a tiny advert on a college announcement board and then I see a melting clock.”

 

Nick smirked, then gestured for her to fix a cup of coffee for herself. “You need a sharp mind to catch subtle irony in one’s own life and appreciate it.”

 

“Pity you can’t depict a mind in clay,” Judy commented as she reached out to bring the pot and mug closer.

 

At that, Nick sat back. “You can’t?”

 

“ _I_ can’t,” Judy clarified.

 

“Oh? You think your art is so limited?” The fox arched a brow at his guest, hardly bothering to hide his amusement at her flustered state.

 

“Not limited. It’s just… Expressing the whole of a person is a monumental task,” she sputtered.

 

“Positively herculean.” Nick’s comment was sardonic, but was completely missed by his interviewee, as was the fact that he’d reached for a sketch pad and charcoal while she was distracted.

 

“I wish I could get as close as you to accomplishing it.”

 

“You can’t?” Nick asked as his paw brought charcoal to paper.

 

“I haven’t yet. That’s one of the reasons I’m looking for short-term work,” she replied. While the coffee cup was the right size, the pot was slightly too large and took concentration to pour. It didn’t help that she was still fighting a case of butterflies and desperately hoping not to spill the hot liquid everywhere. Just thinking about the possibility made her nose want to twitch.

 

“I don’t follow.” As Nick prompted her, the soft scrape on the paper was a surrus of background noise and nothing more.

 

Judy’s nose wrinkled as she added sugar and cream to her mug. “My mentor on campus kicked me out of the studio until I learn to take breaks.”

 

“You’re overworking yourself?”

 

“He thinks so. I only fell asleep at the easel twice this week,” she grumbled. “I don’t know what he’s complaining about.”

 

“That’s improvement?” Nick asked, mildly surprised.

 

“At finals last term I didn’t leave the studio for eight days.” Nick noted a touch of pride in her voice and wondered at it.

 

“I see. Are you struggling in your classes?”

 

“Not the academic stuff. It feels like I’m missing something in my art.” Judy took a sip of her coffee and added another touch of cream.

 

“What’s your medium? I don’t mean tarot cards.”  

 

“Har har.” Despite rolling her eyes, Judy couldn’t help but grin. “Oil paint and collage.”

 

“Hrm…”

 

At that, Judy resurfaced from her fugue. She’d been babbling her problems to a near-total stranger when she should have been paying attention and presenting herself well. It dawned on her that her chances of getting the job were effectively shot to hell. Kicking herself mentally, she drank from her now perfect coffee and slipped out of her chair.

 

Nick looked up, noting his guest’s drooping ears. “Going somewhere?”

 

“I’m sorry. I came here to interview for a modeling job and just rambled for fifteen minutes about my own issues. I think it’s safe to say I didn’t get the job,” Judy sighed.

 

“You think so?”

 

“I don’t think my behavior made for a good impression,” was her self-deprecating reply.

 

Nick gave her a long, considering look. “Hopps, was it? Do you have a problem with nudity?”

 

“I beg your pardon?” Her ears perked at the unexpected and sudden change in subject.

 

“Posing nude, fluff. Do you have a problem with it?”

 

“Not really, no,” she answered hesitantly.

 

“So, you don’t think so, but you’ve never done it.” Judy wanted to protest, but Nick kept going. “You’re banned for how long?”

 

“Three weeks,” came Judy’s flustered reply. She didn’t understand where he was headed.

 

“You’re free tomorrow, then?” he asked, though it seemed more like a statement.

 

“Yes?” she answered warily.

 

“All day?” the fox prompted.

 

“Yes! Why?” Judy snapped as confusion and nerves got the best of her.

 

“Good. Be here at nine o’clock sharp. Wear comfortable clothes and expect to be busy until late evening.”

 

“I don’t understand.” Judy’s nose twitched and her ears couldn’t seem to decide what to do. Nick grinned broadly, flashing fang.

 

Judy watched as the fox stood and languidly pulled the sheet he had been drawing on from the pad. Handing it to her, he said, “You got the job, silly rabbit.” She knew a huge, dopey grin had started to form on her face when he smiled back at her. Guiding her to the door, he opened it and ushered her out. “Nine o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late. Now, shoo.”

 

The door closed behind her before the shock wore off and she shouted, “Thank you!” to the wood. She heard muffled laughter in reply and smiled wider.

 

She’d made a good impression! Despite her blundering through the meeting, she’d gotten the job! With him! She was so excited she could feel her fur standing on end. She found herself skipping her way back to her little shared room in the apartment, delighted as only a carefree co-ed could be on a beautiful day. When she arrived, her roomie was out, which was just as well. She was in too good a mood to share it just yet.

 

She sat at her cookie-cutter college room desk and finally looked at the sketch she’d been handed. A feeling she couldn’t name took root in her gut. She wanted to name it, but all her brain power was aimed at the task of absorbing what she was seeing.

 

It was her. Just her sitting in her chair, staring out into whatever headspace she’d been in during their conversation, so oblivious that she hadn’t even caught on that he’d been drawing. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she realized how self-absorbed she’d been, but that was set aside in favor of bathing in the awe welling up from where ever it is that artistic appreciation dwells. Her essence in that moment was captured so clearly, it was painful. Her irritation with her mentor, anxiety and fear over her work, vexation at her stagnation, giddiness at being in his presence; all of it. All the jumbled emotions were laid out plain as day to her. She sat there, drinking it in until her roommate returned from class and dragged her off to the dining hall.

 

~

 

Nick closed the door and dropped his sketchbook back onto the table he’d pulled it from. He was feeling a particular hunger; a need he had to fulfill. His heart was pounding as it only did when genuine inspiration struck. An electric current rippled just under his skin. Jack found him as he was opening his little sea chest at the end of the ratty sofa.

 

“I see your interview went well,” Jack commented with an amused cant to his voice.

 

“Very,” Nick replied. “Is Celeste still here?”

 

“Yes. She and I were chatting, waiting for you to finish up.”

 

Nick pulled the first cloth bundle out and set it lovingly on the coffee table. “Ask her if she’s free for dinner tonight.”

 

Jack blinked then grinned. “Are you planning to work all night, again?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“So, yes,” Jack giggled. He was in for a treat.

 

“Ask Celeste to call her little sister, as well.”

 

That stopped Jack cold. “Are you sure?”

 

“Very.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“Come on, Jack. She’s the only female in the city that you can’t handle.” Nick settled another, smaller bundle next to the first and winked at Jack before adding, “I’ll need a little entertainment, too.”

 

“You and your kinks.”

 

“You have no room to talk.”

 

“Oh, fine…” Jack grumped half-heartedly. “I’ll ask. Don’t be disappointed if she says no.”

 

“If she says no, Celeste will have to take the whole night’s work alone. I think Skye will ride to the rescue,” Nick stated. “Besides, you’ll be here to entertain her while she’s not tied up with modeling.”

 

“Your puns need work.”

 

“So do your rebuttals. Ask.”

 

Jack grumbled and tried to hide his grin as he left the room. Nick heard the hare’s lyrical tenor mix with the vixen’s soprano in the next room and he smiled to himself. If anyone else were in the room, they would call it anticipatory, or predatory, but Nick didn’t care. The scent as he opened the first bundle wafted around his muzzle and he felt the calm wash over him. He lifted a hank of his favorite hemp rope and savored the feeling of it in his paws again.

 

“Such a bright soul she wears on her sleeve…”

 

This would be a good night.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning Judy woke early, as she always did. Farm girls kept early hours and despite being years separated from the farm and its rigors, she rarely slept past dawn. Unless it was finals, of course. In the quiet of the post-dawn light she hurried through her morning chores and groomed herself very thoroughly. She showered, taking time to condition her fur, which was rare for the rabbit. There was usually little interest in her for such, as she saw it, unnecessary efforts. She had better endeavors to apply her energies to, like her art.

 

Today, however, was an exception. As she was going to be modeling for someone, she thought it would be worth it to present herself well. The fact that it was Nick freaking Wilde made it doubly important.  

 

The sculptor’s name was a byword among dealers, collectors and artists. His skill and talent were the envy of the community, as were his fame and success. However, the vulpine was exceedingly private, rarely offering anyone a foot in the door to his little slice of reality. Judy had gotten exactly that. The thought made her giddy. The memory of him opening his door half-naked turned the giddiness euphoric.

 

She knew his face from magazine articles and gallery profiles. Now, she knew quite a bit more.

 

Russet fur and deep, olivine eyes had haunted her dreams all night. When she slept- what little she slept -her mind supplied her with nothing but sensual interludes. When she wasn’t asleep, which was most of the night, her repose was riddled with daydreams from the superfluous to the deeply pornographic and graphically lurid.

 

~

 

Dinner with her roommate, who happened to her younger sister Amanda, was rife with questions from the younger doe, followed by an avalanche of disbelief by the time they were on their way back from the dining hall.

 

“Jude, you have got to be pulling my leg.”

 

“I’m serious, Ammy. It was him!”

 

“The Doc was right. You do need a break.”

 

“I’m not delusional and it’s Doctor Mousekewitz.”

 

“You’re telling me that you picked up a want ad on the Uni cork board and it turned out to be one of the most famous artists in the city. That you, who have no experience as a model, were hired to be exactly that by him. Right.”

 

“I know it sounds like something from a dime-store novel.”

 

“What it sounds like is a lookalike tricking you into giving him a little cottontail.”

 

“Do you really think I’d make that kind of mistake?”

 

“I think you haven’t had a buck in a while and you’re obsessed with art. Mix the two when you’re overtired and…” Amanda left the statement trailing in the air, the implications clear.

 

“I know how it sounds, but I wasn’t daydreaming. You saw the sketch in my room!”

 

“I saw a beautiful sketch, but that doesn’t make it a Wilde,” Amanda argued her point.

 

“Fine.” Judy spouted petulantly. “Do I have to prove it?”

 

“Judy…”

 

“No, no!” Judy quickly cut her sister off. “I’m not going to let this go. The last time one of my sisters thought I was making a bad decision someone told dad and it took mom threatening to make him sleep in the barn to keep him from coming to get me. I still had to convince her, as well.”

 

“And look how Tom turned out…”

 

The eye roll that followed that statement begged for celestial aid. “We broke up because he transferred to Zoo Tech and we’re still in touch. He didn’t run from me screaming into the night and he wasn’t a serial rapist, like Joana told dad.”

 

“She said he was a little like a bad buck. Dad did the rest on his own.” Amanda’s clarification did nothing to set her sister at ease.

 

“And that’s why I’m doing this.” So saying Judy pulled out her phone and pulled the number from her call history. “I’m not going through another ordeal because someone assumed I was being stupid.”

 

“Judy, are you serious?” Amanda’s voice was part concerned, part disbelieving. She’d been trying to rib her sister a bit and make sure she wasn’t being foolish because her workaholic tendencies had caught up with her. However, Judy was not the type to take it lying down when she felt wronged. She hadn’t intended to, but it looked like she’d pushed Judy a little too far. Amanda resigned herself to seeing her mistake through.

 

Before she hit the call icon, Judy pulled out her earphones and plugged them in, handing one side of them to her sister who reluctantly took it. When the earbuds settled, Judy hit the icon and the phone rang. Several tense moments later the rings cut out in favor of a voice Judy was unfamiliar with. It was a rich tenor with a light continental accent. Panic flooded through her as Judy tried not to think her sister had been right.

 

“Hello?” the voice repeated.

 

“Um, hi. My name is Judy Hopps. I interviewed with Mister Wilde this afternoon. Is he available?”

 

“Oh, you were the interviewee!” Judy saw her sister react to the delight in the speaker’s voice. “I must thank you for stopping by today, he’s been very excited since you met with him.”

 

“He has?”

 

“Simply bubbly!”

 

Judy felt the flush in her cheeks and ears. “Oh! I- Um… Is he available? I wanted to ask him a couple questions, if I wasn’t imposing.”

 

“Not at all! Not at all, I assure you. Can you wait a moment? He’s a touch tied up. I’ll see how quickly he can extricate himself.”

 

The phone was muffled somewhat, but Judy and Amanda could hear a muffled conversation going on. A few moments later, the same voice she’d heard earlier in the day rolled through the speakers and straight to the pit of her stomach, where the butterflies were. It was everything she remembered from earlier in the day, but now it had a laconic, satisfied quality to it that hadn’t been there earlier. Red fur and bedroom eyes flashed into Judy’s mind and Amanda’s presence was completely forgotten.

 

“Miss Hopps. It’s a pleasure to hear from you.”

 

“Likewise.” Judy kicked herself for the awkward response and the fact that the chuckle that it earned made her stomach tighten. “I had a small request to make, if you don’t mind?”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“My sister doesn’t believe that I met you. I don’t mean to impose, but I wanted to ask if you minded her coming with me tomorrow to confirm it is you.”

 

“Are we reconsidering taking the job?”

 

“We are not! I mean, I’m not,” Judy struggled not to trip further over her tongue. “I’m definitely taking the job.”

 

The same velvety laugh rolled through the phone. “I’m just ruffling your fur, fluff. You want to make sure someone knows where you’ll be and who you’re with so your family doesn’t get too upset, or scared, right?”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“It’s fairly common, especially for female models. Personal security is always wise. I was going to call you and suggest it, but I got a bit distracted. I apologize.” Sincerity shone through  in the male’s warm voice.

 

“No! No, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay with it,” Judy scrambled to cover up her embarrassment at forgetting such an obvious safety measure.

 

“Very much so. I need to get back, though. Nine o’clock, Miss Hopps.”

 

“I’ll be there. And “Judy” is fine.”

 

“Alright, Judy. See you and your sister then.” Judy smiled. “I’ll even put a shirt on,” he added before the line went dead.

 

Judy had to blink away the effects of the sculptor’s final tease before she realized the call had ended. She turned to her sister with a triumphant expression that melted the instant their eyes met.

 

“What?”

 

“You are crushing so hard,” taunted Amanda in a teasing tone used only by siblings.

 

“I am not!”

 

“You’re blushing straight through your fur and you sounded like you were talking to a buck for the first time.”

 

“Oh gods, Amanda, shut up,” Judy groused.

 

Amanda wanted to keep teasing her sister, but she’d pushed Judy pretty hard already, so she conceded. For now. Holding up her paws in a sign of defeat, she chortled, “I’ll admit I was wrong. He sounds a bit smug, but I didn’t get a creepy vibe from him.”

 

Judy breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Good.”

 

Amanda couldn’t resist one final tease. “He must be a good looking male to get you so flustered. And “I’ll even put a shirt on”? Wow…”

 

Judy had blushed the whole way home.

 

~

 

One of the things she loved about her vocation as an artist was the freedom to let her imagination loose. That same imagination had kept the blood racing in her veins since she returned from dinner. Between the phone call and her sister’s teasing, she’d been a prisoner in her own head all night; the victim of her own gloriously active imagination.

 

Judy was no fool. Nor was she inexperienced despite being only twenty-one years old. She had known the fox for less than a day. He was an acquaintance at most. The rest was a fantasy and a little bit of hero worship. Not a bad thing, as long as she kept the fantasy in her head. She was not about to let a little infatuation get in the way of her art, or compromise her good sense. She was going to be his model for about three weeks. At the end of that, she might have someone new to call a friend. Someone who was covered in red fur and made her knees weak just from hearing his laugh.

 

Judy shook herself and firmly set aside the daydreams. She still had a lot to do before she could get to her first day of work.

 

Following her shower, she scrubbed the water from her fur and let the fur drier do the rest. Then, after careful and thorough attention with her grooming brushes and the application of a little product, she deemed herself done with her morning preparations.

 

Breakfast was a simple affair most days, so it took little time for her to whip up a pair of veggie wraps and an apple-berry smoothie. Her meal was done and she was going through her satchel when Amanda joined her.

 

“Ready to go?” Judy chirped cheerfully.

 

Used to Judy’s enthusiasm in the mornings, Amanda just shook her head as she eyed her sister. “I’m more ready than you are, Miss Hopps. You aren’t even dressed.”

 

“I was waiting until it was time to go.”

 

“That’s now, then.”

 

“What?” Judy glanced at the clock. “No. it’s only 7:45. There’s an hour until we have to leave.”

 

“Judy, on time means fifteen minutes early,” Amanda explained.

 

“That still leaves forty-five minutes until we have to leave,” Judy’s ears, perked high in excitement, began to droop in confusion.

 

“Nope. We’re leaving now and taking a stupidly long route.”

 

“Uh… Why?”

 

Smirking, Amanda pointed towards the floor right in front of her sister. “Because your foot is thumping like crazy and I don’t want to hear it until then.”

 

Judy looked at the offending limb and forcibly stilled it. “Sorry,” she muttered sheepishly.

 

Amanda chuckled. “Go get dressed. I’ll eat while we walk.”

 

~

 

An hour later Judy was nervously standing outside the same door she’d faced yesterday, now with her smirking sister side-eyeing her. They’d wandered over most of campus and stopped at the student center for some coffee before making their way to Safflower Lane and Judy’s moment of truth.

 

Judy glanced at her sister’s smartphone. She’d insisted that Amanda pull up a picture of Nick for a direct visual comparison and the doe had complied, but not without giving her a very knowing look. She was relieved when she saw the digital clock read 8:45, as it meant she would no longer have to suffer her sister’s silent amusement at her expense.

 

Judy rapped smartly on the door and waited. A few minutes passed and she was about to knock again when the door rattled in it’s frame and creaked open. Judy’s excitement changed to confusion as not a fox, but a hare opened the door. A male hare in canvas trousers and a white t-shirt. Both garments were covered in dirt and burns, the shirt obviously well-worn to point of being nearly see through. The buck had a light grey coat that was almost white, severe dark stripes adorned his cheeks and ears, and he possessed some of the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

 

“Which one of you lovely young ladies is Judy?” Those blue orbs moved over the forms of both young does, taking their measure. However, there was no heat in that gaze, unless one counted artistic fervor.

 

Amanda leaned in and stage whispered, “You sure we’re at the right house? I only ask because that’s not a fox.”

 

Judy elbowed her sister, much to the amusement of the hare. “Nick is in the shower,” he offered. “Come in and you can have some coffee while you wait.”

 

Amanda put a paw on Judy’s shoulder and said, “Hang on. We heard your voice yesterday, but who are you?”

 

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Where are my manners?” The hare extended his paw. “Jack Savage, at your service.”

 

Deciding she’d had enough of being talked around, Judy took his paw. “Judy Hopps. This is my sister Amanda.”

 

“Enchanted.” Jack turned sideways and, with a wave of his of a paw, ushered them inside to continue their conversation in private.

 

“I’m sure.” Amanda commented as the door closed behind them, earning another elbow to the ribs before following her sister and the buck into the residence.

 

“Mister Savage-,“ Judy began. Once more she took in the space, this time factoring in the knowledge of just who occupied it. The eclectic decor and slight disarray made complete sense to Judy, though she could see Amanda twitch a nose at the ‘mess’.

 

“It’s professor, actually, but Jack will do,” their host cheeked.

 

Amanda leaped at the opening. “Professor, huh? You teach at ZU?”

 

“I do. Art history and metallurgy.”

 

“Whoa! Whoawhoawhoa!” Amanda’s outburst startled Judy who turned to glare at her sister in annoyance. “You’re that professor in the Art department! The one who never has an empty class!”

 

“Ah… The price of fame…” Jack seemed unfazed as he continued across the room to the where coffee and fixings had been set, preparing  each doe a mug.

 

Judy swung her gaze from her sister to Jack, then back again, “You know him?”

 

“Of course, I do.” The tone of Amanda’s voice begged to know how Judy could _not_ know his name.

 

“You’re in Theater Arts. How do you know an art professor?”

 

“Judy, you have got to get out of the studio more. He’s a celebrity instructor. His advanced metal sculpture class is always full and his art history classes are standing room only, every semester.”

 

Jack laughed. “I suppose I am known on campus, but that’s mostly due to my accent.”

 

“And how good he looks in a suit, right Jack?” Nick asked from the doorway.

 

The does jumped and Jack used the excuse of pouring a mug for the new arrival to hide his smile.

 

“Miste-, Um, Nick! Hi!” Judy practically squeaked in excitement. Resisting the urge to facepaw, she swallowed a groan and refused to look at her sister.

 

“Good morning, Fluff and companion of fluff. Sorry I’m late.”

 

“No problem. Jack has been entertaining us,” Amanda slipped in while her sister recovered.

 

“I’m sure he has,” the fox chortled, giving his fellow a wink.  
  


The hare rolled his eyes and scooped up his own mug. “If you’re ready to take over, I need to get back to the shop.”

 

“Off you go, Jackie. My best to your latest creation.”

 

“Mhmm. Just try not to get too carried away. They aren’t used to your… intensity,” Jack cautioned Nick in a low voice before turning back to the pair of young does. “A pleasure to meet you ladies,” he offered with a nod of his head and flash of a smile. Then he disappeared through a door on the other side of the room.

 

Both Amanda and Judy followed his exit, each admiring the athletic benefits of metallurgy, before returning their attention to the fox who was now fixing his coffee to his satisfaction.

 

Amanda was the first to break the relative silence. “What did he mean about not getting carried away?”

 

The question was addressed to Judy, but it was Nick who answered. “I have a tendency to get lost in my work. If I get into a proper flow, I won’t stop for hours at a time. That can be a bit taxing on a model.”

 

“Is that what you had planned for me, today?” Judy asked, trepidation evident in her voice. “When I told you that I hadn’t modeled before I wasn’t joking. I can’t do hours at a stretch.”

 

“Deep breath, Carrots. I have a timer that rings at twenty-minute intervals.”

 

Judy and Nick chattered back and forth for several minutes about various artistic details, forgetting the other rabbit in the room entirely. That was, of course, until Amanda’s amusement at her sister’s crush gave way to boredom and she decided to check the identity of the male in the room against the profile she had on her phone. It took her several rechecks before she was able to admit her eyes weren’t lying to her, but when she finally convinced herself, everything changed.

 

“Holy shit!”

 

“Ammy, you ok?” Judy asked cautiously. Her sister was not inclined to profanity, so whatever it was that caught her attention was significant.

 

In response, Amanda stared at the fox and stammered, “You’re him.”

 

“I’m whom?”

 

“You’re Nick Wilde,” she replied breathily.

 

“Last I checked, yes.” Nick tilted his head, pretending to think the statement over. “I did just see myself in the mirror, so it’s a pretty sure thing.”

 

Judy saw where this was going and was torn between gloating and launching herself into damage control. “Amanda Hopps, stop gawking.”

 

Amanda found that impossible and flashed Judy a gleefully mischievous grin. “You saw him shirtless.”

 

“Oh, gods….”

 

Nick chuckled. “I promised to wear a shirt, today, and I am wearing one. Your innocent eyes will remain unsullied.”

 

“I’m not sure I’d mind…”

 

“Amanda!” Judy hissed loudly.

 

“I presume that is your name, Miss Hopps,” Nick said as he offered his paw. “Unless you want to continue to have me at a disadvantage.”

 

Amanda leaned forward a bit more than was necessary to take the offered appendage. “You presume correctly, but I think having you at my mercy could be a lot of fun!”

 

Nick barked a laugh and Judy decided she’d had enough of her sister embarrassing her. She grabbed her sister by the shoulders and steered her with great alacrity and little dignity to the door. “Thank you so much, Ammy! Now, you know who I’m with. If I vanish you have a place to start looking.”

 

Amanda couldn’t resist. “The first place I’ll look is his bed, if I don’t see you home tonight.”

 

Judy, ears quickly going from pink to red, pulled open the door and shoved her sister out. “Off you go!”

 

“If you get nervous I could stand in for you!” Amanda offered over her shoulder.

 

The door slammed, but it didn’t drown out her sister’s laughter. Judy turned to find Nick fighting to suppress his own mirth. He did not appear to winning the battle.

 

Judy chuckled nervously. “Siblings! Can’t live with them; can’t get rid of them fast enough!”

 

“I can’t claim to know, personally,” Nick chortled. “I’m an only kit.”

 

There were serious thoughts of following Ammy out of the door. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m not.” Nick took up his coffee mug and walked towards the door Jack had passed through not long ago. “Shall we?”

 

Judy grabbed her own coffee mug, careful not to slosh the contents, and followed him down a hallway and into what she could only describe as a giant nest. The room had likely been a solarium once upon a time. The outward facing wall would have fit in perfectly in any of her family’s greenhouses. The raised beds and trellises had been left alone where they didn’t impact the light unduly and repurposed as display space and seating.

 

On one side, seating cushions, chaise lounges and a daybed warred for space with piled throw pillows and lush rugs. A raised dais dominated the other side; obviously space for his model or hanging piece to be displayed. There was space in the center for a work table or platform to be erected, as well, and Judy saw the component pieces of both leaning against a wall. Everything seemed to be slightly off center; set vaguely opposite each other, but slightly akimbo in the room.

 

It dawned on her awareness that the room appeared to be arranged for viewing. Judy could only presume that Nick enjoyed showcasing his own work for friends, or critics. For a thrilling moment she thought he could conduct workshops in the space, but her thoughts were derailed as the fox cleared his throat.

 

Turning, Judy saw her host gesture to join him as he sat in the sun pouring into the room. Forcing the thoughts of how good he looked in that light to one side, Judy took her seat. The image was, however, poignant to her and refused to remain a point of side note.

 

~

 

The conversation that followed was an old script as far as Nick was concerned. Hours, effort, compensation, expectations and requirements; the basics of negotiation between any artist and their potential model. He was pleased to discover that Judy was no slouch when it came to negotiating and she was entirely unafraid to ask for information. There was something she was uncertain about. Well, two things.

 

She was very anxious when it came to discussing her modeling in the nude, but quickly acquiesced once he swore on his honor not to pounce on her and devour her whole in a fit of mindless passion. Her uncontrollable laughter and beet red ears were a delightful compliment to each other. His paws were itching for his sketchbook.

 

Fifteen minutes later, they had an accord all hammered out. Fair wages, reasonable expectations and no carnal propositions without dinner first. However, Nick still sensed, all joking aside, that the rabbit was itching to ask a question. Finally, he couldn’t take the suspense any longer and caved.

 

“Judy, as much as I find it charming watching you squirm, I would like to get to work and my curiosity is killing me. What are you struggling not to ask?” Her reply was anything but what he expected.

 

“Would you be willing to offer me alternate compensation?”

 

Nick arched a brow at her words. He just couldn’t resist. “I thought we just agreed on dinner, first.”

 

“Har har. I’m not talking about your thinly veiled attempt to joke your way into helping me relax.”

 

Nick smirked. “Clever bunny.”

 

Judy preened. “I meant that I would be willing to trade my wages for something else.”

 

“What would that be? Your wages wouldn’t cover the cost of even a small piece of mine and as much as I’ve enjoyed your company, I like to eat, so no discounts.”

 

Nick’s teasing finally broke the dam and the question shot out of her mouth as though fleeing for its life. “Would you model for me?”

 

All Nick could do for a moment was blink, open-mouthed. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“When I saw you in the light a little bit ago I couldn’t help but to want to paint it.” The question asked, Judy’s modesty reasserted itself. She wanted to melt through the floor. “I… I’m sorry…”

 

Nick tried. He really did, but there was something about this rabbit he found disastrously engaging. He managed to mask it as a cough for a moment, but, this time, the laughter wouldn’t be contained. It bubbled up and took on a life of its own that Nick, for all his years and experience, could not restrain. It roared out of him and in his mirth, he felt a tiny pang of guilt. The little bunny was blushing furiously and looked like she was about to cry from the humiliation of him laughing at her.

 

Mastering himself took a moment or two, but through the tears and aftershocks, he reached out and placed his paw over hers for a moment, saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

 

“Then why did you?” she huffed, voice filled with emotion.

 

“Because for the build up you gave it, that was the last question I thought you would ask.”

 

Nick stood and briskly fetched a sketch pad and coals. He almost dropped them when he heard her ask, “Am I fired?”

 

“Absolutely not!”

 

The silence following his outburst was one of mutual surprise.

 

Judy blinked owlishly while Nick recomposed himself. He was aware of his propensity for intense reactions. It had gotten him into his fair share of binds when he was younger. He’d lost models and contacts to it when his career was in its infancy. He’d learned to rein it in and keep it under wraps long enough for new people to get acclimated. Today, however, he’d slipped up a bit and let out a little too much too soon. He had to cool the situation down a bit or he might scare her off.

 

“I’m not about to fire you for asking for something like that,” he explained in a carefully modulated voice. “However, I can’t just say yes. I value my privacy very highly.”

 

“I understand,” Judy replied in an equally careful tone.

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m saying no…” The look of confused hope on her face was absolutely precious. “I’ll make you a deal. I would only consider doing something like that for a very close friend and under certain circumstances. If we end up in such a situation, I’ll consider it. Deal?”

 

“Deal!”

 

“Good. Now, let’s get to work.”

 

~

 

It was almost one o’clock when Nick finally stopped sketching. Once Judy had gotten over her reticence things had progressed very smoothly. Nick’s joking and easy manner put her at ease and his complete professionalism removed any doubts she had about his integrity. After the first hour, they found themselves in a rhythm. The poses she took were simple and natural and with minimal guidance from the fox. He seemed to prefer an organic method to finding his inspiration, relying on instinct instead of possessing a clear vision from the start. As she shifted her position, he would ask her to hold in place, or request small adjustments, but seldom anything more than that.

 

The timer kept their pace brisk and the posing from being too taxing on her, but by the time Nick set down his sketchbook and coals Judy was very ready for a longer rest. As Nick put his supplies away, Judy pulled on the robe he had leant her for the day.

 

“Lunch?” Nick proposed.

 

Judy’s stomach answered for her and she chuckled ruefully.

 

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on.”

 

Nick led her back through the house to the kitchen where he told her to sit. To her surprise, the fox began pulling ingredients and implements from their places around the room and, quickly, a meal took shape. It was a meal that earned an appreciative moan from her on the first bite.

 

“This is incredible!”

 

“It’s soup, salad and a sandwich,” Nick demurred with a shrug. “Hardly spectacular, but I’m glad to see it appreciated.”

 

Judy eyed him skeptically. “This is not a simple meal. Now with this flavor.”

 

“Tomato soup made with curry and coconut milk, root veggies on bread, and fresh greens in a bowl.”

 

“No. I refuse to believe it’s that simple at all. It tastes too good,” Judy insisted. She motioned with the piece of bread she held, preparing to dip it into the soup. “I swear this bread is homemade.”

 

“It is,” he agreed.

 

Judy stopped mid-bite and stared.

 

Noting her unwavering gaze he returned her look. “What?”

 

“This is sourdough.”

 

“Yes…?” Nick drawled.

 

Judy swallowed her mouthful and put her sandwich back on her plate. “Sourdough bread is a pain in the tail to keep going. It takes a lot of work.”

 

“I am aware,” he stated.

 

Judy replied with the only, unfortunately lame, compliment she could think of. “You cook extremely well.”

 

“I took classes.” He licked his spoon and watched as her eyes lit up with curiosity. His fingers tingled to return to sketching, or preferable clay.

 

“Where?”

 

“Zootopia Culinary Institute.” Nick paused his own meal and waited. He had an idea of where the conversation was going.

 

“That’s a professional grade program. My brother is in it, now. They don’t offer classes outside the program.”

 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t admitted to the school.”

 

Judy watched Nick sip his water and digested what he’d just admitted. It meant that he was trained to be a professional chef, as well as a world class artist. It didn’t make sense. All she could ask was, “Why?”

 

“Why what, Fluff?”

 

“Why would you study to be a professional chef when you’re already a famous artist?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around learning and practicing both disciplines at once.

 

“When I learned to cook, I wasn’t famous and I needed to pay rent,” he stated pragmatically. “The ZCI allowed me to do so and learn a valuable skill.”

 

“So, you learned to cook on a professional level for a part time job?”

 

“More or less.” He could see the confusion bouncing about behind her eyes as she reassessed what she knew of him with this new information. Something didn’t click for her; he could see the question forming before she asked.

 

“But why?”

 

Nick sighed. “Carrots, let me ask you a question. How many meals will you remember?”

 

“This one, for certain,” she replied half jokingly.

 

“Beyond this one.”

 

He was serious, she realized, and put down her spoon. Sitting up in her chair she shook her head. “Not many. They’re just food.”

 

“That, right there is your answer.” A raised digit gets her attention before he waves both paws, palms up, over the table top. “You see a meal as just food. I see it as an experience. The more I experience, the richer my life becomes. That manifests in my art. If I want my art to grow and its meaning to deepen, I need to grow as a person. Constantly. New skills, new experiences; anything that makes my breadth of experience deepen.”

 

Judy’s ears drooped as she took in what he said. It made sense, logically, but… “I don’t understand,” she confessed.

 

Nick tapped a finger on the table top as he mulled something over. Judy was hideously afraid she had offended him, but didn’t dare to interrupt his thoughts. Seeming to come to a decision, Nick popped to his feet and marched back to the door that led to his studio. Judy watched as the fox flung the door open and bellowed down the hall.

 

“JACK!”

 

An enormous crash followed by some very creative profanity was the response Nick had been hoping for as was evidenced by his swift return to his seat. A few minutes later, an irate Professor Jack Savage stalked into the room.

 

“You bellowed?”

 

“You’re taking Judy to visit Marcelle this afternoon,” Nick announced.

 

All the anger drained from the hare’s face. He glanced at Judy before asking, “Are you sure?”

 

The fox looked his model up and down, smirking. “Quite sure.”

 

Judy was very uncomfortable with the turn her day was taking. “Who is Marcelle?”

 

The fox answered, “You’ll see.”

 

Before Judy could follow up, Jack interjected. “Nicky, I can’t. I have work to do.”

 

Nick waved off the hare’s concerns. “Your TA’s are handling the grading and you’ve been staring at that pile of scrap metal for weeks. You need the break.”

 

Jack huffed. “Oh, fine. Twist my arm.” It was as close as he would come to agreeing with the fox about his art work. Or current lack thereof.

 

“That’s a good hare. Now, go get cleaned up.”

 

Jack didn’t bother pretending to be upset anymore. The extra hop in his step was all the giveaway that was needed. As soon as he was out the door, Judy turned to the fox who was happily enjoying the rest of his meal and asked, “What am I doing now?”

 

“You are going to go with Jack to meet a friend of mine. This is part of your job, so you will be paid for your time and I will cover the expenses,” assured her employer.

 

“That’s all well and good, but who is he?”

 

“He is Marcelle,” Nick failed to explain much of anything. “If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask him.”

 

~

 

Amanda Hopps’s day, despite starting off so amusingly, had ended up distressingly mundane. After she left her sister in her crush’s tender care, she’d gone off to enjoy a thoroughly unimpressive morning. Her only morning class was cancelled because the professor was sick. Her next class didn’t start until four o’clock. That left all bloody morning for her to kill. All of her friends were in class, or working.

 

There weren’t many entertainments that she could afford on her work-study paycheck and she didn’t have a boyfriend, so that left mammal watching. The little coffee shop just off campus was a good place for an aspiring actress to study behavior and hone her observational skills. It was also priced for starving art students and sported a huge storefront window which was perfect for staring out of. It was a hotspot for everyone from caffeine riddled thesis writers to bored diletantes and hungover partygoers.

 

Amanda was just about two hours into mammal watching with a large mug of her favorite Acai Jasmine tea when it happened. She had pulled herself into her favorite corner by the window and settled in, expecting only the usual. She mostly got what she expected. A lover’s quarrel, a family of annoyed parents with the kits in tow, a few hundred academics in various stages of barely coherent and one very lost pack of high school students who had gotten separated from their tour guide, were only par for the course.

 

She was getting ready to leave in the hopes that a walk would waste some time when who did she see but her big sister Judy out for a walk with Professor Savage. It was too good a moment and her paws acted without her brain’s permission. Her phone leapt out and before she knew it the picture was flying through the airwaves to one Bonnie Hopps with the caption, “There’s hope for her yet!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Judy was ushered out of Nick and Jack’s home with the bemused buck moments after finishing her last bite. Nick had remained tight-lipped on the topic of Marcelle through the meal and Jack had been no more helpful when he returned to the kitchen. The buck was wearing a lovely grey suit and a tie that made his eyes pop. She could see why his classes were so popular, especially when he was doing a lot of writing on the board.

 

Between the rigors of his discipline and the cut of his suit, Judy found herself wishing he would precede her a little more often as they walked. It was a nice view. A view that spurred a few thoughts that Judy had been muddling through since she had seen the buck and his housemate interacting.

 

They got a couple blocks from the house on Safflower Lane before Judy couldn’t contain herself.

 

“So, um, Jack… I was wondering…”

 

“About my relationship with Nicky?”

 

The familiarity of the endearment and the ease with which he predicted her question led her to a simple conclusion. “A common question, I see.”

 

“Somewhat, yes.” Jack chuckled. “We are aware that we have what some might call an atypical dynamic.”

 

“Two males living alone together, different species… It does fit a stereotype or two,” Judy commented.

 

“Or six,” the buck agreed. “We’re artists, so the whole bohemian lifestyle is somewhat presumed, regardless.”

 

“So, you aren’t together?” the doe asked, unable to quell her curiosity.

 

“My dear Miss Hopps, you will only get equivocations from me unless you dispense with dancing around the point. Just ask. The worst I’ll do is refuse to answer.”

 

“Are you and Nick lovers?” she asked raid fire, hoping that getting the words out faster would lessen the embarrassment of asking such a personal question.

 

“No,” he replied. “That much I can say with certainty.”

 

Judy’s nose twitched at the unexpected response. “With certainty?”

 

Jack smirked and smiled at his younger companion. “Yes. With certainty.”

 

“Oh.” She nodded slowly in response to his words, obviously still unsatisfied by what she’d learned so far. Jack simply waited for her to continue the current line of questioning. “You act very familiar with each other. I’ve never seen mammals so comfortable with each other that weren’t in a long-term relationship.”

 

“You still haven’t,” he confirmed and watched as her ears rose into the air.

 

“Wait. What?”

 

“Nicky and I are in a long-term relationship,” Jack stated, clarifying nothing at all.

 

“I’m confused.”

 

He arched a brow in her direction as they paused at an intersection. “Friendship is a type of relationship, Miss Hopps.”

 

Judy gave the hare a flat look. “You’re being pedantic.”

 

“Professor,” Jack said with a wink and continued walking.

 

Judy rolled her eyes and smiled. “So, you aren’t sleeping together.”

 

“No. Not that I’d mind if we did.”

 

That statement stopped Judy in her tracks. She stood there blinking, watching the buck continue at his same pace, completely at ease. He’d made such an admission as easily as he might comment on the weather. There was no humor in it, so she knew he wasn’t just saying that to ruffle her fur and he didn’t seem annoyed or forced in any way. It was a simple truth, spoken simply. Mentally shaking herself, she trotted to catch up with him.

 

“I know I didn’t mishear you and I know you aren’t pulling my leg.”

 

“Bit difficult to pull your leg when you’re walking on it.” He gave the briefest of glances to her lower extremities before returning his gaze forward.

 

The young doe huffed in frustration, narrowing her amethyst gaze at the source of her annoyance. “Are you always this difficult?”

 

“Only when it comes to topics other mammals take seriously, which I do not.” Judy’s confused stare earned a small chuckle from him. “Ask the question, Miss Hopps.”

 

“Why do you keep calling me that when I told you Judy is fine?”

 

Now, Jack did laugh openly. “Well played, my dear. I will reward you with two answers. One, I called you that to get a rise out of you. It’s a good way to get people to relax a bit. Two, I was genuinely serious. I wouldn’t say no if Nick offered.”

 

“You’re gay?” Judy half asked, half stated.

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“I… I don’t understand.”

 

“Is it really that surprising?” Jack prompted. “He’s an exceptional mammal. I’d be exceptionally pleased if he wanted me to go to bed with him.”

 

“Me too,” Judy muttered, quietly.

 

“I know.” In response to Judy’s ears flopping down, red as beet roots, Jack continued. “Don’t get embarrassed, now. You started this conversation to gauge your chances with him and find out if he’s already taken by me.”

 

“Which he isn’t,” Judy stated.

 

“Which he isn’t,” Jack echoed.

 

Judy paced along with the self-satisfied hare for a few more moments before her irritation caught up with her. “Alright, fine. You aren’t gay, but you’d bed him in a heartbeat. How does that work?”

 

“You’re finally ready to ask the real questions! Congratulations on getting over yourself,” cheered Jack.

 

Her shoulders stiffened with indignation. “That was a mean thing to say.”

 

“It’s not intended to be,” he assured, returning somewhat to the familiar role of professor. “Mammals tend to get hung up on themselves. It keeps them from actually doing what they want and asking what they need to.”

 

“And you got over yourself?”

 

“I had to,” Jack affirmed. “It was a very liberating experience.”  

 

“Liberating…”

 

“Very. I don’t take myself seriously, so I don’t have all the egotistical baggage that comes with it.”

 

“And when did this happen?”

 

“Ah-ah.” Jack held up a finger. “That is a topic for another time. Right now, you want to know how I can claim to not be gay and still be ok with having an interest in Nicky, yes?” Judy nodded. “I’ve knows Nick since we were kits. He’s special and I know it. I adore him and his art is an absolute addiction for me. So, what it comes down to is… I accepted that. I love his art and he is special to me.”

 

“That’s a little confusing.” Judy pondered. “Wait. Is this part of the whole “getting over yourself” thing?”

 

“In part. One of the effects of that was accepting that my sexuality includes attraction to mammals I find mentally stimulating. He is absolutely one of them. Another is the understanding that I am myself. Labels are for other people’s benefit, not mine, so I don’t bother with them. I like what I like. I leave the classification to those that can spare the time for such things while I enjoy my life.”

 

“That… does sound liberating…”

 

Jack nodded and gave the rabbit an understanding smile. “Hang-ups are a lot easier to deal with when they live in a box and wear a ball gag.”

 

Judy sputtered and then laughed. It was possibly the last thing she expected to hear from the lips of a posh, well-mannered, older buck. “I get the feeling this is special treatment. Why are you treating me like a friend?”

 

“Because Nick told me to take you to see Marcelle. He doesn’t often indulge himself in letting people in, so arranging an introduction like this means he likes you. At least, he’s willing to take a chance on you,” Jack added.

 

Struggling to keep her thoughts off of her face, Judy tried not to focus only on the “he likes you” portion of Jack’s words. Instead she tried to buy herself some time, and a bit more clarification. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means you’ve impressed him, somehow. Don’t ask me to explain. Even I don’t understand him completely. Suffice to say that he thinks you’re someone worth knowing. If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask him.”

 

With that cryptically unhelpful idea rattling around her head Judy found herself brought up short from her ruminations. Jack had stopped walking in front of an unprepossessing door on a boring side street and grabbed her shoulder so she wouldn’t wander off. The only indication that this particular door and street were in any was noteworthy was a small, bronze placard next to the door, reading “Marcelle’s” in a copperplate script.

 

Jack’s voice was almost reverent as he said, “We’re here.”

 

~

 

Inside the door, Judy found a space that made her artist’s senses tingle. “Bohemian chic” was the closest term she managed to find to fit it. Texture and color abounded on every surface and the furniture looked like it had come from a dozen decades and cultures. It was a chaos of form and texture. Somehow, it was the most relaxing room she had ever entered.

 

The lighting was soft and romantic, courtesy of dozens of well places sconces along the walls that were supplemented by strategically placed spotlights. Under her paws the dark, rich wooden flooring was perfectly smooth and led the way to multiple seating spaces set at irregular intervals. Each appeared to have a theme, though what exactly that was only the designer could have said. While the room was not overly large, the design created a perfect flow for both private and public conversations. It reminded Judy of pictures she had seen of grand salons from past centuries.

 

Reclining on a chaise was a corsac fox in his late-twenties. He was dressed in tights and a poet shirt. Judy was certain he had stepped off the cover of a terrible pirate romance novel. Before she could pull herself together enough to ask Jack what was happening, the buck walked over and addressed him.

 

“Andre. Good to see you.”

 

“It’s been a while, Jack,” replied the corsac as he rose elegantly from his seat.

 

“I know. I know. Weeks.” The males shared a small laugh and kissed cheeks before turning to her. “This is Judy Hopps.”

 

“Enchanted.” The corsac extended his paw and Judy took it. Adding to the sense of surreality, the todd kissed the back of her paw instead of shaking it. “To what do we owe the introduction?”

 

Jack smiled. “We’re here to get the young lady acquainted with Marcelle. Nick sent us.”

 

“Ah. I’ll fetch him.” Then, turning to Judy with quiet enthusiasm, he said, “Welcome.”

 

As soon as the fox was through the rather heavy looking, golden door across the room, Judy turned to her companion. “Is this where I meet the caterpillar with the hooka?”

 

Jack laughed, musically. “This is a special place, Judy. Think of it as a start to understanding what you’re getting yourself in to.”

 

“I’m not sure how to feel about that,” Judy murmured as she spied a rather lovely print of Boartecelli’s ‘Primavera’ hanging on wall beside Paul Sign’yak’s ‘The Demolisher’

 

“Yes, you do,” the buck stated knowingly. “This is a little taste of Nick’s world. Marcelle and Andre are good friends to us. They’re eccentric, yes, but nothing when it comes to Nick. If you can’t handle these two, you should limit your time with Nick to the three weeks you agreed to and no more.”  
  


“I think I’m offended by that.”

 

“More likely scared, but that’s pedantic,” Jack rejoined with a wink.

 

“I don’t get you. You seemed encouraging on the way over here, but now it feels like you’re trying to put me off.”

 

“Not at all.” He flashed her a smile, though she couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. “I want you to understand. The rest is up to you.” Soft paw-falls were heard coming towards the door from the other side and Jack dropped his voice. “For what it’s worth, I hope you stay.”

 

Judy was about to reply when the door swung wide. Her eyes were pulled up, expecting Andre, or another larger mammal, but there was nothing to see.

 

“Ahem.”

 

The cough drew Judy’s eyes down to her chest level where she wondered how oblivious she could possibly be. Standing before her was the most ostentatiously dressed echidna she’d ever seen. The silk scarf around its head was the dullest garment it wore and would have made a blind mammal flinch. Judy discovered she’d lost her capacity for speech, which didn’t seem to matter.

 

“This is the protégé?” the flamboyantly dressed mammal addressed to no one in particular.

 

So, the echidna was male. For his small stature and effete dress, his presence was commanding. Judy felt a peculiar desire to stand straighter and salute.

 

As she floundered, Jack took up the thread of conversation. “She is the model. Nick sent her here with me, Marcelle.”

 

That got a sharply inquiring look from the marsupial, which Jack returned with a nod. “Where does that fox find them?” Marcelle grumbled. “No matter. Come!”

 

Judy’s paw was unceremoniously grabbed and she was all but dragged along. The last she saw of Jack for some time was an amused smirk and a paw wave before he vanished behind the gilded door.

 

The rest of the building that Judy saw was essentially like the first room. Eclectic furniture and décor arranged in relaxing, very pleasing ways. She felt totally at ease in the place, aside from not having a clue about where she was going, or why. A hurried traipse down two halls led Judy through another door into a room of dark colors and lighting with a massage table in the center.

 

When she was released she tried to speak again but was hushed by a paw landing expertly on her muzzle. “Hush. You are not here to speak. You are here to experience. Now, we have three hours. You will not make a fuss.”

 

Judy removed the paw from her person and stepped back. “Three hours for what, exactly?”

 

“You are not overwhelmed for long. This is good.” Marcelle smiled at her defensive stance and guarded expression. “You are here to experience Marcelle’s.”

 

“Marcelle’s what?” she drawled suspiciously.

 

“Marcelle’s, little rabbit. Not Marcelle,” he emphasized with a huff before he turned to go, headscarf flapping dramatically behind him. “Annabelle will join you in a moment. You will make yourself nude while you wait and leave the rest to her.”

 

“And who is Annabelle?” Judy asked, paws on her hips.

 

“A masseuse who, like me, prefers males.” The echidna paused just long enough to smirk at her over his shoulder. “So, your virtue is safe.”

 

‘Uhhuh…”

 

The distrust in her voice stopped him in the door. “It was Judy, yes?” She nodded in response. “Do you truly believe Jack would bring you here if it was not safe? Or Mister Wilde? I understand this is strange to you, but that is why you are here. Now, make yourself ready. Annabelle comes.”

 

Of course, that was when Judy’s phone chimed, indicating a received text message. Marcelle’s reaction was immediate and brooked no argument. “That. Off. Now.”

 

Not daring to look until the echidna was calm again, Judy pulled it out, silenced it and shut it down without looking at the screen.

 

“This is your first visit to Marcelle’s, so you are forgiven, but those electronic leashes you people insist on enslaving yourselves to are not welcome here. They will be off or remain at your home in the future. Yes?”

 

Judy nodded vigorously.

 

“Excellent.”

 

The door closed behind the proprietor with no further fanfare and Judy sucked in a long breath. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. With the door to the room closed, Judy was left with nothing but her thoughts. She had no reason to trust these new mammals, but neither did she have reason to distrust Jack or Nick. In the absence of any better reasoning, she trusted her instincts and, very uncertainly, disrobed.

 

On a chair in the corner of the room, she discovered a lush robe, very similar to the one Nick had let her use during her modeling that day. Once Judy was out of her clothes, she exchanged them for the robe and swaddled herself. The cloth was thick and smelled of lavender. Moments after she was enrobed, she was joined by a middle-aged caracal bearing a tray. On said tray was a plate of fresh fruit so ripe it was crying, a bowl of warm, damp towels, a small glass of champagne, and a low goblet of rosewater jelly.

 

With a matronly smile the felid set her burden down and said, “Let’s see if I can work out the stress those boys have no doubt caused you.”

 

~

 

Three and a half hours later, Judy and Jack arrived back at the house on Safflower Lane. Jack looked somewhat more devil-may-care for his visit to his favorite respite, while Judy appeared to be more liquid than rabbit. She had walked into Marcelle’s uncertain and anxious. She walked out with a new friend or two and languid enough to make a feline jealous. Once she had gotten over her uncertainty, she’d enjoyed treats and pampering unlike anything she had experienced before. Annabelle hadn’t relaxed her so much as tenderized her from ears to toes. Parts had been painful as the more severe knots had been addressed, but the end result was well worth it.

 

She made her way after Jack and into Nick’s bemused gaze as though dreaming.

 

“I see you enjoyed yourself,” Nick cooed over a cup of tea.

 

“She had Annabelle,” Jack supplied.

 

“Lucky doe!”

 

“Indeed. She did ask after you, you know; wondering when you’ll be visiting her, again.” An indecipherable look passed between the two males. Not that Judy was paying much attention to such details.

 

“After tonight, I think I will.”

 

Jack stopped his paws as they lifted down a mug for himself. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Nick confirmed with a nod.

 

Judy was so engrossed in the little cup and saucer in front of her as Nick filled it that she missed Jack’s glance her way. “Are you sure?”

 

Nick however did not miss the look and returned it with one of his own. “I am hopeful.”

 

“Happy day!” Jack chortled.

 

His vessel filled, the buck gave Judy a quick hug and lifted his mug in salute to his housemate on his way to wherever he vanished to when Judy wasn’t looking.

 

“I’d ask how your afternoon went, but I can see it plainly,” the todd turned back to the young doe. “Ready to get back to work?” He asked as he rose from the table and began making his way towards the studio.

 

 Judy stood to follow and grinned cheekily at him. “I hope you don’t expect a lot from me this afternoon.”

 

“What I expect is that you will pose for me on that chaise lounge with your teacup. Just relax and get comfortable.”

 

“That I can do.”

 

With her cup and saucer in paw, Judy moved to the indicated piece of furniture and arranged herself. Her clothes came off with much less hesitation than they had earlier in the day and the pose she took was much easier to settle in to. In truth, she felt like she draped herself upon it more than posed. When a chill crept up on her, she instinctively grabbed the corner of a crocheted afghan nearby and draped it over her lower half.

 

Realizing that it may have been presumptuous of her, she started to remove it only to have Nick stop her with a raised paw, saying, “Don’t. It’s perfect.” Smiling to herself, Judy shimmied herself a little lower on the chaise and propped herself up on her side before resting her cup and saucer on her thigh.

 

This time, Judy noticed, Nick was not sketching, but settling behind a blob of clay roughly the size of both his fists. A little thrill ran through her at the thought of a Wilde using her as the subject; capturing her in sculpture. Running his paws all over her...

 

Before she could sink too deep into that daydream, Nick asked, “How did you find Marcelle’s?”

 

“Jack took me there, remember?” she retorted before good sense could catch up to her tongue.

 

“I see it relaxed you enough to let out the wit you were hiding. Good…” Nick chuckled.

 

~

 

What followed could arguably be called ‘work’ as far as Judy was concerned. As relatively undemanding as her morning session had been, somehow the afternoon session was even less demanding of her effort. She felt it to be a rather cathartic experience, as well. Sitting mostly still and sipping her tea while sporadically chatting was an easy task. One made significantly easier by the company.

 

Conversation ebbed and flowed depending on how intent Nick was on whatever it was he was doing. It was obvious that he was making a concerted effort to stay engaged with her, both to make her comfortable and to alleviate the possibility of boredom. Small, periodic adjustments to her position were interspersed with jokes, or simple queries to keep a rapport going. That said, as the time slipped by, Nick was increasingly focused on the clay and less on her. That gave Judy a chance to do what very few mammals had a chance to do: watch a master artist work.

 

It was a fascinating experience to her. If she had to use a word to describe him as he worked it was ‘cute’; part childlike openness, part rapacious focus. Quick glances at her were followed by deft movements from his experienced paws, either bare, or with various tools. Nothing she hadn’t seen hundreds of times from watching other artists, but somehow this was different. There was an ease and fluidity she did not believe was common. His paws moved with a simple, unrushed certainty.

 

As slow as his movements seemed, they never stopped and he progressed with startling rapidity. Part of it was that he seldom had to look as he reached for anything. He knew exactly where every tool was and precisely what he needed. It was a setup that many artists strived for. That led Judy to observe the fox’s surroundings and work space. Bowls with damp sponges and rags were scattered around with cups and pots holding clay forming implements and miscellaneous bits. She had no idea why he had a metal spatula and a long chisel in the same container as a fake rose and a broken back scratcher, but it really wasn’t her business.

 

Judy did her best to let him work and not move, but she itched to see more of what he was creating. Part of this was due to vanity; after all, how often did one get to be immortalized by _the_ Nick Wilde? But largely, she felt as though, somehow, if she could remain in his presence long enough she might be able to capture a touch of that surety of movement for herself. When she created her art, it was never such a smooth process. There were fits and starts where she needed to clean brushes or gather new materials, interrupting her own flow. Watching Nick, she knew that upon returning to the studio she would need to make some changes before touching her pallet and brushes.

 

Sooner rather than later her teacup was empty, though she continued to hold it, balancing it lightly on her thigh as she gazed intently at her employer. The blob of clay had taken form beneath Nick’s paws until she could almost feel it molding itself to his will. Gentle, yet insistent, paws pressed, smoothed, scraped, tortured and tormented the mound into a recognizable form; rather like Annabelle had manipulated her own muscles earlier.

 

That thought sparked something in Judy and her ears perked. It was not that Nick was beating the clay into submission as many artists tried to do. He was working on it as it were a living thing, something that would respond just as readily to a tender stroke as a hard slap; a conversation, almost.

 

As that realization dawned, so did the knowledge that the tea had gone through her like a sieve.

 

“Nick? I, um, need a break.”

 

Without looking up, the fox replied, “Go ahead. I’ll just finish up.”

 

“Where is the…”

 

Her words were cut off as a clay-smeared paw lifted and pointed towards a small door on the opposite side of the studio space. Rising a bit stiffly, Judy looked for a clock, but didn’t find one. What she did find was the sun low on the horizon. Grabbing the robe, she had used earlier and slipping it on, Judy hastened to the washroom.

 

Emerging a few minutes later, she felt much more comfortable, but was slightly confused as she was now alone. After a quick check, Judy was certain she was the only mammal in the room. Shrugging, she fixed her robe and traipsed over to the work table Nick had been using to see how far he’d gotten, which was where he found her upon his return.

 

“Like what you see?”

 

Judy wanted to speak, but found it a little difficult.

 

The sculpture was small, but painfully detailed. Somehow conveying relaxation and curiosity, as well as a little mischievousness in the form of a little smirk. The teacup was there, resting on her leg above the afghan, held daintily by a paw. Her ears were splayed over the arm of the chaise and she was looking straight at her as if daring somemammal to ask what she was up to. It was nothing like what Judy had presumed she had looked like and she found herself very quickly losing her cool.

 

The word to describe the semi-bare form was sensuous. Maybe teasing or alluring. Not how Judy saw herself in any way shape or form. The fact that Nick saw her that way in, what she’d thought of as, a languorous pose was, frankly, a huge turn on and embarrassing as hell.

 

“I’m fairly pleased with it so far,” he continued, seemingly unaware of her discomfort.

 

Judy found her voice enough to mumble, “It’s beautiful.”

 

“It’s a start. As rough drafts go, it’s a good foundation. When I scale up, it’ll be more detailed.”

 

Judy couldn’t stop herself from spouting, “How?!”

 

“More detail in the expression and fur; the weave of the throw blanket. I can do better.” Misunderstanding her stricken expression, Nick was quick to add. “Nothing on you, I promise, my dear! It’s a matter of my skill, not your presentation. That was… delicious.” Nick, who was momentarily lost in that place artists sometimes go, shook himself and smiled at her. “Scaled up, there will be so much more I can do. For now, this is a good piece. I think it made the cut.”

 

With her continuity of thought shredded, there was only one thing she could find to ask. “What will you name it?”

 

Here was the telling on whether he had intentionally made her look quite so coquettish, or simply been recreating what he had seen. It was a lovely piece of work, but she had known plenty of artists who were unable to even remember what their subject had looked like after their work was done. It was a fugue state, according to Doctor Moskowitz, and not uncommon. Her employer may well have missed everything he had seen in favor of the clay.

 

“Serene mischief, I think,” the todd replied, offering a self-satisfied nod after a moment.

 

So much for that.

 

~

 

Judy barely remembered her trip back to her apartment. Between the aftereffects of Marcelle’s and the end of her afternoon session, she was pooped emotionally and physically. Autopilot was a wonderful thing, she mused to herself as her feet carried her home by rote.

 

The little ‘snack’ she had been sent off with did nothing to help matters. What Nick and Jack considered a snack she would have called a gustatory revelation. The sandwich was a salad on a homemade bun, dressed in something that should be on the list of banned substances. She tried so hard to make it last, but she found she was starving.

 

With the dining hall closed, her sandwich was all she was going to have until she could scrounge something from the pantry. It was an unappealing prospect after such a day of delights. Exquisite cuisine versus college grub... Judy knew which she preferred. Her traveling treat vanished long before she made it home.

 

Arriving home, Judy noticed from the microwave in the kitchen that it was after 8 o’clock; later than she had expected, but not horrible. She traipsed her way to the refrigerator and collected a carrot water before insinuating herself onto the sofa beside an extremely nervous Amanda Hopps.

 

“Hey, Sis! Good day?”

 

 Judy hummed in response and sipped her drink. “A very good day. Why do you ask?”

 

“You know I was just joking, then, right?” Nervousness colored the other doe’s words.

 

“This morning? Yeah. I know.”

 

“This mo- Judy when was the last time you looked at your phone?” Amanda was genuinely worried. Judy was one of her most intense and vivacious siblings; energetic almost to the point of mania. Seeing her so relaxed was… Unnerving. And she was never without access to her phone.

 

“Around one this afternoon?” Judy gave a vague guess accompanied by a shrug. “I dunno. Marcelle made me turn it off.”

 

“Marcelle?” Amanda parroted. “Who’s Marcelle?”

 

“An absolutely fabulous echidna who has a… salon? Spa? Something like that. Nick sent me there today.”

 

Amanda’s brain seized at what she was hearing. “Wait, wait, wait.. Marcelle, as in Marcelle Triomphe?” Judy only shrugged, so Amanda elaborated. “Hugely bright wardrobe? Usually wears a headscarf? Commanding presence?”

 

The violet-eyed doe saluted her sister with her half empty bottle. “That’s him!”

 

“You went to his spa?” Amanda squealed, causing Judy to wince at the high pitch in her sister’s voice. “What organs did you sell to pull that off?”

 

That got Judy’s attention. “Come again?”

 

“Is that what did this to you? Did that fox bang the brains out of you for real?” Full of righteous fury, Amanda was already on her paws and looked fit to start a war.

 

Now, Judy was completely awake. “Where on earth are you getting that from?”

 

“Judy, Marcelle’s spa is one of the hardest places to get into in the city. The waiting list is two months long at the best of times and I know you didn’t make an appointment.”

 

“No, we just walked in.”

 

“You walked in,” Amanda sputtered in disbelief.

 

Judy nodded slowly. “Yeah, we walked in. What’s the problem?” She had no idea why her sister was in such a tizzy, but knew there was no way she would let it go until she got an answer.

 

“It must be nice dating a buck with those kinds of connections…”

 

Judy pinched the bridge of her muzzle. This was getting old. “I’m not dating anyone!”

 

“Sure,” Ammy huffed. “That’s why you went there with Professor Jack Savage, of all mammals.”

 

“What? No!” Scrunching her nose, Judy made a face at her sister.

 

“I was worried about you having a thing for the fox, not that I’d blame you, but seeing you with the Prof was really a shock.”

 

“You…” A sneaking suspicion crept over Judy. “You called mom.”

 

“Not called so much as texted?” Finally noting the murderous look on Judy’s face, Ammy realized her sister was more than just annoyed this time around. “Oh, come on, Judy. I saw you with him and I couldn’t help it!”

 

“You wanted to give mom and dad a little hope that I was going to settle down, huh? What did you send?”

 

“Just a pic and it wasn’t like that!”

 

“Uhhuh…”

 

Judy pulled out her phone and powered it up. When the startup sequence finished and the service connected, Judy understood why Ammy was so nervous when she sat down. If she’d been any less relaxed, she’d have been furious. 404 texts, eleven phone calls, six muzzletime requests and 88 furbook posting notifications tagging her.

 

Judy sighed and started tapping through to call her mother. The first ring didn’t even finish.

 

“Judy! Thank gods! The buck you were with what’s his name? Where’s he from? How long have you been together?”

 

Judy jumped in when her mother paused to take a breath. “I’m not dating him, mother,” came the flat statement.

 

“What?”

 

“The hare in the picture Ammy sent you. We are not dating. Before you ask, no we aren’t sleeping together for fun, either.”

 

There was a moment of silence before Judy heard her mother’s suggestion of, “You could try it.” Ugh...

 

“One, I’m not interested. Two, he was very clear that he isn’t interested in me like that. And three, I couldn’t in either case because he’s a professor at the university. A relationship with a student would get him fired on ethical grounds.”

 

“You won’t always be a student…”

 

“And he still wouldn’t be interested in does, mom.” Judy silently apologized to Jack.

 

“Oh…”

 

“Don’t sound so disappointed, mom.”

 

“Is it too much to hope you find a nice buck?” her mother asked. “After what happened with Tom…”

 

“Tom transferred for a better degree and the internship program at ZooTech. We weren’t going to work long-term, anyway, and he’s still a friend.” How many times was she going to have to explain this to her family. As if once wasn’t enough. Taking a breath, Judy tried to put a on a happy face for her mother. “I’ll find a male eventually.”

 

“Or a female. You know we don’t judge.”

 

Judy snorted softly into the phone. “ _You_ don’t.”

 

Bonnie sighed on the other end of the line. “You’re father’s an idiot, dear. I love him, but he’s a farmer and you’re his daughter.”

 

“Nevermind that he has almost 200 of them.”

 

“Just goes to show his level of devotion,” Bonnie countered.

 

That made Judy smile. “Level of crazy, maybe.”

 

“That too.” Mother and daughter shared a quiet laugh. “Alright, Judy, I’ll take care of the misunderstanding out here.”

 

“Thanks, Mom. Tell Dad I send my love.”

 

“I will. Goodnight, Bun-bun.”

 

“Night.” The call ended and Judy cleared her notification history. That was that. At least her mother could be a voice of reason for the mass of overreaction that was no doubt raging out at the Hopps Farmstead. The conversation had gone well, she thought. Until, of course she looked at her sister, again. “What?”

 

Amanda was staring at her with a combination of confusion and suspicion on her face. “Who are you and what have you done with Judy Hopps?”

 

“What.”

 

“Are you sure you’re ok? Normally, you’d be freaking out over something like this. You’d be threatening to shave my ears, at the least.”

 

Her lips parted to issue a sharp retort, but Judy found herself unable to rip into her sister. Or, rather, not wanting to bother. After taking a long swallow of her carrot water she replied, “Maybe, I’m just getting over myself.”

 

~

 

Late that night, Jack had finished work for the day on his latest sculpture and set down his tools. The welding torch was disconnected and the tanks secured; tongs, pliers, hammers and his massive welding gloves went to their respective places on or in his workbench. He was tired. He also was very pleased. Nick had been right. He’d needed a visit to Marcelle to unplug for a bit.

 

Chatting with Andre while he got his customary paw massage and claw treatment was a simple pleasure he’d denied himself for too long. As usual, he owed his housemate a kindness in turn. Not that they kept score, by any means. They’d given that up in grade school. The tally got too high for either of them to keep it straight. That wasn’t to say Jack didn’t feel indebted to his housemate in some ways. Too often Nick was the one who would accurately call him out on being in a rut.

 

Today was a prime example. The fox had been absolutely correct. He’d been stymied in his sculpting and allowed the frustration to build to the point of being toxic. The excursion, and in new company, had been just what Jack had needed. The proof of same lay in that his latest piece was now significantly further along than it had been that morning. It was more progress than he’d made in weeks. He definitely owed Nick a little something in turn.

 

Once he was out of his workshop clothes and in a suitably comfortable robe, Jack made his way to where he knew his closest friend would be and he found him just like clockwork. He was sitting on his little uncomfortable stool, staring alternately at the chaise where Judy had so recently reclined with the doe’s presence rendered in clay on the work surface. Just as Jack had expected, Nick was fiddling with his wire clay-cutter.

 

“Still undecided?” the buck asked pointedly as he leaned on the work table.

 

“You know I’m not,” Nick responded without looking up. There was no point, since he already knew that the buck’s muzzle would be curled in a smile.

 

“I know. It’s still amusing after all this time that you don’t, though.” As they spoke, Jack studied the unfinished work on the table.

 

“I know, but…”

 

“...but you can never quite believe it, can you?” The fox hung his head as he shook it. “Well, Nicky, isn’t that one of the reasons you keep me around?”

 

“One of many, Jack. You know that.”

 

“It’s still nice to hear from time to time. So, what are you going to do, scrap it, or send it to the kiln?” In response, Nick held up the garotte-esque tool and Jack took it from his unresisting paw to set it aside. Then, he turned the same paw over and began rubbing gently at the fox’s cheek. “So much praise and acclaim, but no self-confidence.”

 

Nick leaned into the touch, gaze still fixed on the lump of shaped clay. There was the shape of the doe who had inspired it, texture to represent the weave of the afghan, and that sweet, taunting smile. But it was missing so much… “I can do better.”

 

“And you will,” Jack assured him. “But not until you get Miss Hopps back in the studio.”

 

“I want to tie.”

 

“Celeste and Skye need time to recover and your other muses are either in cram for midterms, or recovering as well.”

 

“Vexing,” the todd sighed.

 

“My offer still stands, Nick,” Jack reminded his friend. He watched as Nick nodded his head, knowing that the offer would be refused. Again.

 

“I know it does.”

 

The hare sighed softly. “I forgave you the moment it happened. You know it was nothing I didn’t want.”

 

Nick shook his head, tilting to smile wanly. “Permission before it happens, Jack. You know the rules better than anyone.”

 

“And you know the price I want for letting you tie me, again,” Jack stated.

 

A quiet chuckle and Nick sat up fully, finally pulling his thoughts back from the edge. “I don’t think I can handle that tonight.”

 

“Then, let’s get showered and I’ll put on Young Frankenswine, if you pick the wine.”

 

“Deal!” Nick jumped at the opportunity to watch one of his favorite movies.

 

Shooing Nick out of the studio space, Jack deftly sliced the finished miniature from the work space and put it in a space Nick was not allowed to touch. Once it was safe, Jack tidied away a few of the tools and wiped the wire down. He slipped out the door with a fond look at the chaise and the memory of the one time he had modeled for the fox, flying above it.   
  


 


	4. Chapter 4

For Judy, the following month passed in the blink of an eye. Her life was a bipolar whirlwind. On the one hand, there were days of classes and exams sprinkled with friends and outings; all the usual mania one associated with the halcyon days of youth. Then, there were the days—and often very late nights—of contrasting peace, filled with modeling, long talks, and new experiences. 

She was fast friends with the metalworking professor within a week. Judy relished the time she spent with Jack as much as she did her oldest and closest of friends. The buck was older and wise, but not above childlike silliness when the mood was on him. From him, Judy slowly learned the subtle art of not taking herself so seriously. It was a slow process requiring constant attention, according to Jack, but it was worth it. The proof of it was evident in her end of term exams. 

For once in her life, she wasn’t an anxiety-riddled mess by the time the testing ended. Not that she ever doubted her scores, of course. She was an excellent student and she knew it. However, being a rabbit lent itself to higher stress when under pressure, even if it wasn’t her own. 

“No, Amanda.”

“Judy, please!”

“Amanda Hopps, you’ve had three cups of black coffee already today.”

“I’ll take tea.”

“Herbal, or nothing.”

“Oh gods, Judy. I need caffeine!”

“Any more and you’ll get a heart attack and you know it. I will not be the mammal responsible for explaining what happened to Mom and Dad.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Judy commanded as her sister pouted. “No coffee, no tea and no other stimulants.”

“I don’t know how you’re so calm this semester. Shouldn’t you be a nervous wreck?”

“I’m nervous, but I’m handling it better.”

“Uhhuh… Your “private lessons” with Professor Savage, right?”

“It’s not what you think and they aren’t lessons. We just talk.”

“Right. You just talk with the hottest prof on campus into the wee hours of the night after modeling nude for his roomie. Please tell me you know how absurd that sounds.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “It may sound weird, but it’s the truth. Jack’s a great guy and a lot of fun to talk to, but zero interest, here, Ammy.”

“Either you’re crazy, or that crush of yours has fried your brain completely.” 

“That’s my issue to worry about,” Judy replied with a smirk.

“Is that what has you so relaxed? Did you bag the fox and he’s just that bloody good in bed?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Judy replied wistfully.

“Judy for as laid back as you are these days I’d be tempted to say you were getting double teamed by them.” Amanda waggled her brows at her sister, hoping to finally get a rise out of her far too calm sibling. Her anticipation fell flat when Judy’s ears flitted thoughtfully and her eyes widened slightly.

“Now, there’s an idea…” 

“Judy!”

“We could try a spit roast, next!”

“Judith Laverne Hopps, stop it!”

“Kidding!” the grey doe cheeked at her sister. “I’m not sleeping with either of them. And you’re too young to pull off the full-name thing. Only Mom can do that.”

“Judy, seriously, what gives? This is a lot of change I’m seeing. Modeling was never a thing for you and now it’s constant. You haven’t painted in a month and the Doc was asking about you. He’s afraid you’ve been scared off your art and feels responsible.”

“One, You’re right. Modeling wasn’t a thing for me. Now it is and it’s a better paying job than I’ve ever had. Two, I’ll be back at the easel soon. I’ll stop by and see Doctor Mousekewitz before we leave for break, just to ease his mind.”

“And three?”

“Why three?”

“You always do three. It’s a thing for you.”

Judy snorted. “Three, change isn’t a bad thing.”

“Too much change at one time isn’t good. I worry, Jude.”

Judy gave her sister a quick hug. “And I appreciate it. I’ll be painting again in no time. Now,” Judy said as she shouldered her bag. “No more caffeine for you and I have to go.”

“Another “lesson” with the hot professor?”

“Another modeling session, but first I have an assignment.”

“Another one?” Amy asked incredulously.

Judy smiled as she slipped out the door and was gone.

It wasn’t the first time the sisters had gone through such a conversation in the last few weeks. Ammy meant well and was being a responsible sibling. Judy bore her no resentment for her concern. It showed she cared. It was sisterly. The familial concern that worried her was that of her parents whom she would be seeing at the weekend. 

With the end of term, she had three weeks at home to look forward to. She was close to dreading it. If her parents hadn’t gotten a mangled version of events there was a chance Judy would be able to give them enough truth to keep them updated without causing a stir. Her mother she could talk to more openly, but her father… he was always on the lookout for a threat to any of his little princesses. Hopefully, with a little maternal aid, he’d hear her out and be understanding. It was a long shot, but it was what she had to work with.

Judy smiled to herself as she scampered her way to the location for her latest assignment. 

As much as she had grown closer to Jack, her relationship with Nick was still very much an enigma to the grey doe. There was a connection there and chemistry enough to make her nose twitch. She felt it as surely as the ground under her feet. However, there was something that still felt off by a few degrees. 

The sculptor had effectively become her mentor. The scope of which was uncertain, but a clear indicator of his interest. Above and beyond the modeling, he took time out of is schedule to spend with her. When she was upset or having a bad day, he encouraged her to express herself and was patient until she could manage it. On good days he’d arrange small outings between modeling sessions. The picnic they had in the park was a wonderful afternoon she’d never forget. 

Judy grinned to herself as she ambled down the sidewalk. It was positively hilarious when Jack had shown up. The buck had arrived somewhat breathless and fidgety. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Judy discovered why. A rather annoyed arctic vixen had stalked up to their group and simply crossed her arms and she stared the striped hare. Judy had been slightly concerned until she saw the look of barely restrained mirth in Nick’s face. 

The vixen, however, only had eyes for Jack. “Professor Savage.”

“Miss Winters! A delight to see you again.”

“Is it? That’s difficult to believe when you flee at the sight of me.”

“I have done no such thing!”

“Oh?” The vixen’s level gaze cracked as she raised an eyebrow. “So, you have no objections to my company?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Good! We’re having dinner tonight, then.”

“Um… I have plans tonight. Terribly sorry. Previous engagement and all that.”

“Not true, Jack.”

“And what gives you that idea Miss Winters?”

“Your accent thickens when you’re fibbing.”

Jack looked to Nick for help or confirmation, Judy wasn’t sure which, but all he got was, “It’s true Jackie. It’s how your mother always knew.”

“You could have told me, then.”

Nick chuckled and winked at the buck, who turned back to the other fox. “Miss Winters, I do in fact have plans for tonight. I regret that I will be unable to join you for dinner.”

The white fox turned to the red one and primly asked, “Is this true?”

Nick shrugged. “I’m not his secretary, so I’ve no idea. I think he was planning to work on his latest creation while I was with Miss Hopps, here.”

The vixen’s expression softened slightly under the benign attention of the sculptor. “So, you won’t be needing me to model for you?”

“Not this evening. In a few days I’ll need you for the next hanging piece, If you are interested.”

“Another small scale?”

“Alas, not.”

“I’ll ask Celeste if she’s free.”

“Most wise of you.”

Skye nodded with a small smile before turning her attention to the young rabbit. “Hopps, was it?”

“Oh! Um, Yes,” Judy chirped awkwardly as she stood and offered a paw. “Judy Hopps.”

“Skye Winters,” the vixen stated as she took the proffered paw. Turning to Nick she smirked. “Finally gotten a taste for lagomorph?”

“I’ve always appreciated beauty.”

“Sweet talker.”

Nick grinned and popped a blueberry into his mouth. 

Judy, meanwhile, was flummoxed. She knew her ears were beet red at his compliment and it was clear that Skye noticed. The vixen’s smirk grew to a warm, resigned and knowing grin. Nick may well have meant his statement from an artistic standpoint and intended the ambiguity to be a tease. That possibility didn’t stop her heartrate from climbing any more than it stopped the nervous little smile that grew on her face. 

“And I can see why you like her. Will she be joining us?”

“That remains to be seen, but I am hopeful.”

Judy looked between the foxes and then at the other rabbit, who happened to be staring at the red fox with an expression of curious surprise. “Jack, what are they talking about?”

Before the hare could respond the vixen cut in. “That’s between you and Nicky. He’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“Thank you. That’s maddeningly unhelpful,” Judy groaned. Nick’s deep chuckles and Skye’s silvery laughter echoed through the little grove they’d claimed. 

“Oh, I like you, bunny. Do please stick around,” Skye chirped before turning back to the subject of her ire. Judy was startled at the sudden drop in temperature. “And you! As you have plans tonight, you’ll have lunch with me now.”

“I’m having a picnic with Nick and Judy!” Jack stammered.

“A meal they can easily finish on their own and, as you don’t even have a plate, you haven’t even begun eating. Come on!”

Judy watched bemusedly as the white furred fox hauled the hare to his feet and marched off with him in tow, stammering at every step.

“That poor girl…”

“What? Skye? Shouldn’t we be more worried about Jack?”

“He can handle himself,” Nick chortled as he popped another berry into his mouth. “He just can’t handle her.”

“What do you mean?”

“He may be exceptionally competent in the classroom and in social settings he’s in his element. He’s a fair artist, as well.” Judy scoffed at the understatement. “However, get him tangled up with a pretty girl and he’s a bumbling goof.”

“You claim I’m pretty, but he’s perfectly fine around me.”

“I claim more than that, but there is one great difference between you and Skye as far as Jack is concerned.”

“I’m a rabbit and she’s a fox?”

“You he appreciates as a friend, whereas Skye is closer to an addiction for our dear professor. He’s been infatuated with her for years.”

“What? That’s nuts! If that’s true, then why was he so fighting so hard?”

“Like I said, he becomes a bumbling goof around her.”

 

“Does she know?”

“I’m quite sure she does.” Nick smiled at her poleaxed expression. “His accent thickens for other reasons than fibbing, Miss Hopps. Also,” Nick tapped the side of his nose. “Unmistakable.” 

“So, foxes can tell when a mammal is attracted?”

“A lot of mammals can pick up the scent markers, but don’t always know what they mean. It helps to know the mammal.” Mischief twinkled in the depths of the fox’s eyes. “I know Jack extremely well. I can tell.”

“Can Skye?”

“I suspect so, but either way, she knows.”

“How can you be certain?”

“I told her.”

That was him. He flirted and teased. Rarely serious and even more rarely open. More than anything, he listened. The rapport was there, yet something still was absent. Judy was certain that it wasn’t on her end. She held little, if anything, back and was perfectly happy that way. Nick, Judy felt, was almost the opposite. There were things he never showed and it made Judy endlessly curious as to why. 

That wasn’t to say her quasi-employer was in any way lacking in emotion or understanding thereof. He was frighteningly adept at knowing what she was feeling and responding to it. Moments of joy were met with gleeful celebration. Moments of her calm were joined with serene companionship. Whenever she expressed anxiety or uncertainly he responded. Usually, with something she didn’t expect. He’d offer puzzles that always seemed to comfort her or give her little tasks she rarely understood, but that he insisted would help her. They almost always did.

That was how her assignments started. 

One afternoon, about two weeks into her modeling, she was feeling despondent and Nick expressed part concern and part frustration at it. Her mood was infecting him and by extension the small-scale form he was working on. His vexation took the form of scrapping away what he had been working on and telling her to get dressed. As soon as she was, he offered her no opportunity for anxiety as he picked her up and unceremoniously dropped her in a very large, empty barrel in the corner of the studio. 

“There’s a candle, matches, a sketchbook and coals in there. Don’t come out until you’ve made something you’re pleased with.”

Sitting in the barrel, Judy goggled up at the opening at the top. “What?”

“An excellent question! You’re a clever rabbit. You’ll figure it out.”

“You must be joking.”

“No joke, my dear. Why do you think those supplies are in there, in the first place?” The waning of his voice told her clearly that he was already walking away. “It’s a trick I use when I hit a roadblock.”

Judy had wanted to climb out and give the fox a piece of her mind but didn’t want to jeopardize her burgeoning relationship with him. She also didn’t want to gainsay a technique that he used himself, even if she couldn’t see the sense in it. Instead, Judy harrumphed to herself and sat. There was ample space and then some in the barrel for her, so she didn’t feel cramped or claustrophobic, which was nice. Judy wasn’t a fan of tight spaces. 

There was enough afternoon light for her to find the matchbook and candle, as well as the rest of the supplies. After a few minutes Judy located what felt like a knothole in the bottom of the barrel surrounded by wax dribbles. It must have been what the regular occupant of this space used to hold the candle, she reasoned. In absence of any other vulpine guidance, she crammed the candle into the knothole and shed a little light on her predicament.

“If I were an anxious nibbler this would be paradise,” Judy groused half-heartedly. The rich laughter that answered her from the outside of the barrel startled her. “Are you eavesdropping on me?”

“Yes. When you aren’t complaining to yourself, my psychic powers allow me to listen in on your thoughts.” 

Judy rolled her eyes at the obvious sarcasm sent her way. “Why?”

“It can be a challenge for me to get out of there on my own, some days. I figured I’d hang around and offer assistance when you got tired of trying.”

“I could just call you.”

“I have an enormous throw pillow and a good book right here. I’m fine.”

Judy huffed out a resigned breath. “Alright. Suit yourself.” 

What followed, however, surprised her. 

“Why are you anxious?”

“Aside from getting dumped into a barrel by someone I’ve known for only two weeks?”

“Fair point.”

“…When I was a kit I was playing hide and seek with my siblings. I hid in a culvert connecting the drainage between two fields near the house and got stuck.”

“I can see how that’d upset you.”

“My parents told us so many times to stay away from it, but I’d hidden in the same spot dozens of times with no problem. I thought they were being stupid and overprotective, but I didn’t realize I’d grown. I wedged myself in and waited, but I couldn’t get out when my sister found me. I was stuck for about an hour, until my dad got me out. It just stuck with me.”

“I’ll get you out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“It was cavalier of me to assume you’d be fine with this little exercise and now I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

Judy couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re overreacting.”

“I would disagree.”

“Nick, I’m fine. I don’t like tight spaces, but this isn’t that bad. Besides, it’s not claustrophobia, just a little discomfort.”

“I still feel responsible.”

“That’s all well and good, but you didn’t know. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Still…” Nick responded pensively.

“This really bothers you doesn’t it?”

“I have some… history, shall we say?”

“How very obvious, Mr. Wilde. We all have some history.”

“Alright, clever bunny,” Nick chuckled. “I meant history with trauma.”

“Nick? What do you mean?”

“A story for another time, Carrots. If you’re not going to freak out or have a panic attack, you have an exercise to do.”

Judy hummed to herself. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re keeping secrets and I respect that, but I won’t be put off so easily.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Do you still want to make it up to me?”

“Certainly. How?”

“When I get out of here, I get a hug.” Feeling brave, she pressed on. “And your word to tell me what happened when you’re ready.”

“You are a devious little lagomorph, aren’t you?”

Judy was pleased at the odd compliment, but also concerned by the tone of his voice. “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’ll give you a preview on the story. I have a little trouble with affection.”

“Oh...” 

“You inadvertently chose a very fitting way for me to make it up to you.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to. I didn’t know.”

“Neither did I.”

Judy was mortified. Accident or not, she’d managed to put her foot in it big time. Her guilt was curtailed, however, when Nick’s voice wafted in from the barrel mouth.

“You’ll note I didn’t say no.”

“Really?”

“I said I wanted to make it up to you and you chose well. If you can suffer through sitting in a barrel and sketching, I think I can endure an embrace from a lovely young lady such as yourself.”

“You keep talking like that and I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

The silence that followed was loud in comparison. She nearly gave up on his response when she heard, “And wouldn’t that be an interesting development?” 

Judy’s jaw worked soundlessly for a few moments before her brain reengaged. Rather than think on the implications of what had just happened, she set about her task. There had to be a reason for his rather bizarre instructions, so she gave it a chance. Besides, it was a better option than blushing herself to death.

An hour later, a still flustered rabbit found herself awaiting a verdict. Once she got herself focused on the play of light and shadow over the wood grain, the sketching came fairly easily, even if she had no clue why she’d been told to do it. In truth, she’d been done in less than an hour. It had taken her fifteen minutes or so to work up the courage to face the mammal outside her temporary residence. When she did, she felt like a school kit with a crush all over again.

“Good bunny!”

“Please, don’t talk to me like I’m a kit,” Judy groused. “I was in there for an hour and all I got was a jumbled mess.”

“Don’t sound so put out. This is good.”

Judy fought to keep from smiling at the compliment. “It’s wavy lines and smudges.”

“One could argue that all art is wavy lines and smudges.”

Judy’s paw found her hip as she sassed, “Including sculpture?” 

“In the planning stage.” The fox punctuated his glib response with a wink. “Now, let’s get back to the studio, shall we?”

“I thought my mood was throwing you off.”

“Your mood has improved significantly.” Nick smiled softly. “Something cathartic about sketching shadows on wood, isn’t there?”

It should have infuriated her that he was right. Instead, she was mildly annoyed despite her new relaxation, which was, evidently, the emotion he wanted from her. However, she was not without recourse for a little comeuppance.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I’m trying to?”

“You owe me a hug.”

“I… do. Come on. Get in here.”

Giggling, Judy tossed herself into a massive mistake. She had intended the hug to be a momentary squeeze and maybe something to tease the fox about later. The moment her arms wrapped around his torso everything changed. His heat was a comfort she needed after her stay in the barrel, causing her to nuzzle in as her muscles eased. The awkward tension that rippled through his muscles made her smile. Then, his arms settled around her pressing her into his chest and her breath caught.

Sensations assaulted her. 

She had no clue what did it for her. It could have been the sinewy muscle of his arms caging her that sent a thrill down her spine. It might have been the memories of a warm, safe place where she hid as a kit that popped into her head thanks to his heat. It might have been the dawning realization that she was physically hugging her crush—a crush she knew was hopeless fantasy to have. The scent of musk and clay emanating from him was intoxicating. The feel of him under her paws electrified her. His breath and heartbeat tickled her ears and fur, tantalizing her. The effect was narcotic. Judy’s eyes rolled up into her head as she let her body shift and adjust to mold itself to him like a second skin. For a breath she let herself imagine how it would feel without the layers of clothing. For another breath she prayed she would find out.

The spell broke gentle when she heard him chuckle. 

“If everyone hugged like you do, I’d enjoy them more.”

Judy snapped back into reality to a few awkward realizations. The hug had gone long—awkwardly so. She was immensely turned on and was positive that her arousal was not missed by the fox. How could he miss it? If her scent didn’t give her away, the fact that she was plastered to him was pretty clear as far as indicators of interest went. 

Feigning calm, Judy extracted herself. “Sorry. I’m pretty affectionate by nature. I didn’t mean to get that lost in it.”

“I just said I enjoyed it, so why are you apologizing?”

“To cover how awkward I feel?”

“For hugging me like that, or wanting to do it again?”

Judy’s ears went from pink to scarlet. “I don’t think I can answer that question.”

“So, you do want another. Good to know.”

“How do you know that?”

“First, you just told me. Second, if you didn’t you’d have said you felt awkward about the duration. Leaving it open was a sign you were conflicted about which. Therefore, both.”

“Alright, Mister Smarty-fox. Yes, I want another hug. You’ve successfully embarrassed me to death.”

“At least I know when I want one, I know where to go.”

Judy blinked. “Nick?”

The sculptor refused to answer with anything more than a grin and headed back to his work table. Once there, he sat and waited patiently for her to take her place as a model, again. Judy got nothing further from him on the topic of their hug, though she was acutely aware of the after effects. As she shed her clothes and posed, she was fantastically conscious of her arousal. The fact that she was displaying herself in that state for the male she was seriously infatuated with was exceedingly nerve-wracking. It was made worse when she felt her heat spike. 

She liked it. She really liked it. Judy tried to force down the lurid fantasies with mixed success. Images of all the reactions she hoped she’d spark in him flitted through her mind. When she was finally in position and settled, she was relieved and disappointed to see he hadn’t moved. 

She found his lack of reaction exceptionally frustrating. After their conversation about scents and their meanings she was sure he’d know. He wasn’t scent blind. She couldn’t hide it. The only options she could accept were either he didn’t know her well enough to be able to tell—which was highly unlikely—or he was playing with her. Seeing his twinklingly mischievous eyes, she decided on the latter. He captured her pouting exquisitely. 

That pattern had become the norm. Their usual sessions, sprinkled with bizarre tangents and very few clear explanations. He introduced her to a wide array of mammals and there were lots of late nights in the artists’ company just talking about whatever came to mind. She was learning paw over fist, but she rarely understood the lessons. 

Sometimes, it was as simple as attending an event or trying something completely new to her. Two notable examples were a tobogganing league event in Tundratown and a seminar on toads. Then, there was that tiny food stand in Hyena Heights which he insisted she visit. In the cases of the tobogganing and the food stand, she’d come back wondering if she’d ever feel parts of her body again, but had no regrets. The sledding was a surprisingly fierce competition, though she couldn’t follow the rules and the tiny meal she’d eaten was among the most flavorful—and spicy—that she’d ever tasted. 

There were also rare occasions along the lines of her visit to Marcelle’s where she’d experienced something new and interesting in the company of the good Professor Savage. In the cases where Jack was involved, she invariably had the time of her life doing something delightful. Her visit to the archives of the Metropolitan Museum of Mammalian Art with the hare was a life changing experience she’d never forget. 

And then there were the exceedingly few occasions where Nick himself took her somewhere. In the whole of the month since they’d met it had happened only twice. The first was the picnic in the park. The other was as his plus one to a gallery opening. Both were amusing and filled with the vulpine’s irreverent wit and cheeky demeanor. 

The fox insisted that everything he had her do and everywhere she went had a point and was important to his next piece. What it was he wouldn’t say, but Judy couldn’t help but agree. There was an elusive feeling that crept at the edge of her mind after each event. It tickled her, daring her to reach out and grasp it. It got stronger with every lesson, and conversation—every assignment made it grow, but it was like putting a puzzle together face down. 

She was making slow progress with no idea what the end result was supposed to be, but she knew it was getting closer. The idea thrilled her and spurred her paws past the student center and into The Meadow, as the campus green was often called. It was a pretty space of tall grass and sunlight. Judy enjoyed painting or sketching The Meadow and its occupants on sunny days—she’d even used it as the subject for her first term final art project. That was when she’d been assigned to Dr. Mousekowitz. 

In a moment of serendipitous opportunity, that was precisely who she saw enjoying their breakfast on a bench under a sycamore tree. It was a chance to get a small task over with on her way. 

“Doctor!” Judy called out as she headed his direction. The middle-aged rodent was very surprised to see her.

“Judy! What a surprise!”

“I know, right? Amanda told me you were looking for me.”

“I was. When I said I didn’t want to see you for a week, I expected you back in a few days. That was a month ago. I was getting worried.”

Judy chuckled in embarrassment. “Sorry, Doctor. I picked up a part time job and it got kinda involved.”

“I didn’t want you to trade one obsession for another.”

“It’s not an obsession,” Judy sighed in frustration. “It’s an opportunity.” 

“Judith, I know as a student you need money but you can’t neglect your schoolwork.”

“I’m attending classes and up to date on all my assignments. And I’m not neglecting my art. I’m just not painting much at the moment.”

The mouse didn’t appear displeased at her taking an extended break, but remained concerned as he asked, “What is this job exactly?”

“I’m modeling for a sculptor,” she said proudly. “What?”

Her advisor’s face was a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. “I’m sorry, Judy. I’m just a bit surprised. You’ve never expressed an interest in that before. If I had known I would have been able to help you find work earlier.”

“I wasn’t. This is just….” Judy foundered trying to find the words. “I went to the interview on a whim. It was an impulse. And it turns out that I like it. The artist I’m working with is very good and I’m learning a lot from him.”

“Him?” A strong note of suspicion crept into the mouse’s voice. “Is this artist associated with the university?”

“Directly, no, but his housemate is a professor in the Art History department.”

“Oh! Well, that’s different. What’s his name?”

“Um… I can’t really say. I’m sorry, Doctor, but it’s part of my agreement.” Judy didn’t like fibbing, but she didn’t think Nick would want their association advertised. In light of Dr. Mousekowitz’s obvious suspicions, Judy was fairly sure she didn’t want to advertise either.

“I see… Not unusual, I suppose. Still, as long as you’re being safe and keeping up with your classes, I have no complaints. Have you decided what you’re doing for your midterm and final exam pieces?”

“No on the midterm,” Judy admitted, but before she could say anything about her final project an image of a fox in sunlight flitted across her mind. “I might on the final.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Well, you still have some time. Try to have something for me after break and come back to the studio soon. You’re supposed to check in weekly for status updates, so after the break it’s back to business as usual. However, we will not be seeing you asleep at the easel again, will we?”

“It’s a work in progress, but I’m hopeful.”

“Alright. We’ll talk in the next term. Enjoy your break.”

“You too, Doc! Bye!”

Judy sprinted off, happy to have gotten that chore over with. She liked the Doctor and understood his concerns, but she wasn’t worried about his opinions at that precise moment. Then and there, all she wanted to do was get to her session with Nick. Before she could do that, however, she had her latest assignment from the fox to complete. 

Her arrival at Lemon Hall was remarked upon by no one. That was because it was completely empty of conscious life except for the professor. Nick had instructed her to sketch “Irony”. As usual, she had no idea what the fox was looking for, but she figured the Applied Physics 303 lecture was a solid bet. It was a truly unique class. 

The professor was an ex-con who used his personal experience with car theft and street racing to illustrate physics applications, and his exams always began with, “You just boosted a Furrari.” By rights, it should have been the single most exhilarating class the university had to offer. Yet, no student could stay awake for a full lecture. That might have been partly due to the scheduled time for class, immediately after lunch. The common opinion, however, was that anything was boring when it was taught by a sloth. 

Judy skated off a sketch of the room, including somnolent co-eds, drooling TA’s and the slow moving, tattoo-and-fur-dyed prof in fifteen minutes. A speed-sketch of the slowest class in the fastest subject on campus that no one could stay awake through was as irony-intense as she could think of. She hoped Nick would appreciate it. As soon as her feverish scraping of pencil on paper came to an end she scarpered, hoping it would a sufficient offering. 

She enjoyed the little tasks he set her, but she really only wanted one thing most days and that was only found in the house on Safflower Lane. 

She grinned as she sped through campus. However, her disappointment was boundless when she arrived. There was a note attached to the door with her name on it. 

Carrots-  
Lemmington Hall, Room 427. 2:30pm. See you at 4:00.  
-N

Another assignment.

Checking her phone, it was 2:16. Lemmington Hall was across campus. For a moment—and not for the first time—Judy questioned why she was doing all these things for someone she barely knew. Then, she was making tracks, hoping she’d make it before 2:30. She’d just have to express her annoyance with Nick when she saw him at 4:00.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, again! This time with some serious headway into a few of the more fun directions this fic is headed. I hope you enjoy. My eternal thanks to kt_valmiri for helping me get this chapter together, OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing, and of course Cimar, Damlone and BlueberryandHoney for beta reading. Holy monkey, was this a fun one.
> 
> If you like what you're reading, please consider taking a trip to and buying me a coffee. I drink a lot of coffee, so if you want to support my addiction and/or help these chapters appear, it would be heartily appreciated. The link is in my profile.
> 
> Now then! Enough of the shameless self-advertising! On to the kink we go!

Judy arrived at the prescribed room precisely at 2:32 p.m., much to her vexation. Cursing the porcupine who had caused the bottleneck near the dining hall, she knocked on the door and nearly jumped out of her skin when Jack opened it. He was possibly the last mammal she’d expected to see. The look of annoyance on his face quickly melted into surprised confusion.

“Judy? What’s happened?”

“Nick,” Judy groused as she handed over the note from the door.

Understanding dawned for the buck, and he wore an exasperated smirk as he waved her in. “I wish that fox would warn me first.”

“The moon will turn to cheese before that ever happens,” Judy commented wryly as she quickly found an empty seat.

Jack reread the note and chuckled to himself. “Ridiculous todd.”

Turning back to the class, Jack raised his voice as only a teacher can. “Returning to the topic we were discussing before we were interrupted—Please, be patient Mister Catstello. I still have four minutes.” 

The admonished student settled back into his seat, and Jack cleared his throat before continuing.

“This semester, we have focused on sense and perspective. Not merely of the observer, but also of the artist. One cannot express what one has no experience with. It’s challenging for anyone to explain any emotion, be it joy or agony—or even the absence thereof—at the best of times. Representing them, or any other emotion, successfully in any artistic medium is markedly more difficult without a degree of personal experience to give the artist context.” 

At that, something began to niggle in Judy’s mind.

“Mixed mediums are not a taboo, though they are fairly uncommon. Pigment can be mixed into clay. Enamel can be applied to metal. And that’s a whole new layer of potential expression.” Judy found herself nodding along with Jack’s words, pulling from her own love of collage. She’d never considered mixing mediums further, but it was an interesting idea. Another itch grew in the back of her mind, further distracting the doe. 

“Sketches are a starting point for a reason. They are a rough draft. The limit of where the sketch goes and what it becomes is your own willingness to embrace your own emotional expression; how much of your experience you are willing to share and display to others. That is the purpose of art, such as it is: The expression of one’s own experience and emotion through a medium. What many artists misunderstand is that the medium is flexible. The experience of one’s life does not have to be limited to store bought paints. Any artist can blend on a pallet, but sometimes it takes a leap into the severely personal to truly convey an experience. But that is your leap to make.” 

At that moment, just when Judy was on the cusp of a revelation, the bell rang signaling the end of class. It was like a sneeze that petered out before happening, irking her to no end.

Over the rumble of students collecting themselves to leave, Jack called out, “Project proposals for the next term are due the Wednesday after the break. Enjoy your holiday!”

Judy sat, annoyed and frustrated, until all the students had left and Jack had collected himself. There were a few curious looks sent her way and speculative whispers followed them. She noted the gossips and filed them away for a few reasons. She knew it was not uncommon for a student to audit Jack’s classes, but she knew that was not likely to be the topic of their interest. 

He was a buck. She was a doe. Could it get any more obvious?

She wasn’t terribly concerned about students’ assumptions. Her degree and future career weren’t dependent upon their opinions, so what they thought was of minimal concern. On the other side of the equation, Jack’s career had survived worse. 

He had a sound reputation and the confidence of the Dean, according to her sister’s endless prattling. A female student showing interest in him was, embarrassingly, not a novelty. He’d handled it properly in the past, to her knowledge, and there was no reason to think this would be any kind of similar issue. She would likely be written off as the latest fangirling student and forgotten as soon as the next one appeared. The fact that Judy had no romantic, or even physical, interest in him would help too. Lapins were not subtle about their interest, so if she wasn’t vamping him outright the rumors would die off that much sooner.

It was unlikely that it would become a problem on his end. However, Judy was aware that it could make her a target for some unpleasantness in the short term. Rumors on campus were ten-a-penny and died off as soon as newer, juicier gossip appeared, so all she had to do was be careful for a week or two. Being home for the next ten days would cover most of that very neatly.

Judy was snapped back into reality by Jack’s chuckling. “Yes?”

The buck leaned on his podium. “You’re a funny one. Usually does who audit my classes daydream while staring at me during class.”

“Sorry!” Judy blushed. “I was distracted.”

“I know, Judy.” Jack shook his head and started collecting his notes. “You weren’t seeing me in your daydream theater, were you?”

“No….”

“I didn’t think so.” The buck chuckled, smirking. “What did he have you doing now?”

Judy groaned, slumping into her chair. Her head landed in the head rest and her ears flopped back over the cushion. “Running around uselessly?”

“He never has you do anything useless. Silly, perhaps, but never useless.” He punctuated his last statement with snapping his briefcase closed.

She waved her paw. “Semantics.”

“Not semantics. Fact: Not everything useful needs to be serious.” Jack’s suit coat slipped onto his shoulders. “I thought you’d have learned that after this long working with him.”

“With him?”

In response, Jack smiled and changed the subject. “So, what was it this time?”

“Irony.” Judy rolled her eyes. “No other directions.”

Jack chuckled. “And then?”

“Well, originally, he told me to meet him at the house after I was done.”

“Then you found the note and ran here to catch the last five minutes of my class.”

Judy held up a finger. “Four minutes, actually.”

“Good grief. You’ve spent long enough around him to be pedantic.”

“You’re one to talk.” Her head flopped back against the headrest, again. 

“You need scones.”

“I what?”

Jack picked up his briefcase and checked his pockets. “Need scones. Nick isn’t expecting you until 4 o’clock, so you have an hour to kill. And I have no plans until dinner.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at the buck. “Finally taking Skye out?”

“Alas for the poor vixen, no.”

“Shall I tell her you called her ‘poor vixen’?” Judy asked, grinning wickedly.

Jack’s ears fell, and he paled under his fur. “You wouldn’t!”

“What are your dinner plans, then?”

He cleared his throat. “An art dealer Nick despises is in town and wants to talk business. I’m going in Nick’s stead.”

“If he doesn’t like him, why does he work with him?” Her ears perked.

“Sanchez is not a pleasant mammal. He is, however, a cutthroat negotiator. He sells our art and makes sure we get top dollar for every bit of it.”

“Because his commission is based on the sale, yes?” Judy nodded along with the reasoning.

“Quite. We don’t have to like the mammal to work with him, but Nick has a particular aversion to Sanchez. One I don’t fully understand, but that’s not my business.”

“Fair enough. I won’t ask. Now, why scones?”

“There’s a shop I know that does a proper tea not too far from here.” Jack smoothed his jacket and fastidiously flicked away a piece of lint. “We can have a pot of Darjeeling, scones, a helping of clotted cream and some lemon curd in our paws in ten minutes. Plenty of time to enjoy and get you to your date at 4 o’clock.”

“It’s a date?!” Judy practically shouted.

“Don’t you want it to be?”

“Don’t be mean, Jack.” Now, she was pouting. She hated pouting. 

“I’m not being mean. I’m teasing. Which wouldn’t work nearly so well if I wasn’t right.” The striped rabbit walked to the door and held it open. “Shall we?”

Judy collected herself and followed him out of the classroom. He was right, of course, but the idea of a date with Nick was only a fantasy. One she indulged in frequently, but just as fantasy. She couldn’t resist a little dig at the buck for ribbing her though. 

“Did you know Skye passed me her phone number last week?”

~

Judy had to admit that Jack was a buck of his word. An hour after they’d left his class, they were indeed done with their tea and she was on her way to her meeting with Nick. She’d make it in good time and finally get a chance to yell at him for making her run all over. It was a good plan, as long as she didn’t think too much about the buck’s teasing. Her interest in getting closer to the sculptor was hardly a secret in their little circle of friends. She hadn’t exactly been subtle. It was still a little uncertain to her, though. 

The fox was absolutely attractive, but Judy was very much a realist. Infatuation and hero worship were by no means the base needed for a genuine relationship. Until she was sure she wasn’t just fangirling, Judy was not about to throw herself at him— even if that was where most of her mind was when it wasn’t directly occupied. 

In the meantime, she had plenty to keep her occupied and the fantasies were still satisfying to her.

Her life around Nick was anything but onerous, but it rarely made sense. The assignments aside, it always felt like they were dancing around something. It didn’t help that he was so damnably tight lipped about some things. Among those that she was especially curious about were his inspirations—his “Muses” as Jack obliquely referred to them—and his hanging sculptures. 

Judy knew they were major secrets for the fox—things he kept that way for a reason. That said, she hated not knowing. She loathed an unsolved mystery, and this was one she was coming to care about quite a bit. Not just as an artist, but for Nick’s sake as well. They were growing closer, and, as that happened, Judy was privy to more personal revelations about the fox she was so fixated on. 

At this point, she would say they were friendly. Perhaps not friends, exactly, but on their way there. Close enough to see a few of his flaws, anyway. His lack of self-esteem and intense, explosive emotional releases—especially when frustrated with himself—both flabbergasted her and were the most telling. In the month she’d worked with him, she’d seen him completely lose his cool only once. Between the event itself and the aftermath, Judy found herself experiencing a range of emotions she was unfamiliar with.

At the time, she’d known something was off the moment she had entered the house. Nick had let her in, but been distant and brooding right from the start. Their modeling session had gotten started but very quickly deteriorated. Everything Nick had attempted had only served to make him more taciturn and irate. He wasn’t joking, or relaxed. There was nothing Judy could have said to make it better either. She could see that he was trying for her sake, but it had been a losing battle. 

Finally, the fox had grabbed the miniature sculpture he’d been working on, smashed it into the table top with his paws, and stormed out grumbling, “It’s all garbage!”

Ten minutes later, he’d returned to the confused rabbit and assured her it was nothing she’d done. He was just in a mood. He’d followed it up by treating her to an early dinner, and they’d attempted another session afterwards at her insistence. Eventually, he had agreed, and the evening had ended on a high, if very late, note.

From that experience, Judy had learned two things. One, Nick was mortal and had moods like anyone else. It was a tiny bit sobering, but healthy in her opinion. The second was how to manage him when he was like that. On the occasions when he was in a foul mood, she needed to help get him through it. It was a simple matter of paying attention and offering help. You know, the way a friend would.

Since that evening, she’d seen him in a bad mood once more to date. Instead of sitting for him, she’d taken him for a walk and listened to him grumble about pretentious gallery owners and the hazards of raising house plants. It was educational and a little funny, by turns. Her amusement at his apparent black thumb was enough to get him to crack a smile, and his mood had improved notably soon after.

It had been a pivotal moment for her, though she hadn’t thought much of it at the time—the first time she’d really been his friend.

With that in mind, and Jack’s teasing rattling around her brain, Judy approached the house on Saffron Lane. When Nick answered the door, Judy was sure, again, that something was very different than usual. For one thing, Nick was dressed up. 

“Evening, Carrots.”

“Nick…” Judy stammered. “What’s the occasion?”

The sculptor’s paw restlessly smoothed his shirtfront. “A fox can’t dress nicely once in a while to impress a young lady such as yourself?”

“A fox can—and it’s appreciated—but it could be misconstrued,” Judy quipped.

Nick smiled. “Spending so much time around Jack is having an effect on your vocabulary, I see.”

“Yes. Thank you for that today.”

He shrugged. “I wanted you to hear what he had to say. He always gives the same lecture on the last day before a term break. I figured I’d save you the other seventy one minutes and skip to the part that mattered.” 

“Thank you, I guess. But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“You implied one.” Nick retorted, fiddling with a button for a moment. “You didn’t ask.”

“I asked what the occasion was, and you evaded.” A cheeky grin grew on the doe’s face as she saw the fox fidget. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little nervous, Nick.”

“Guilty as charged!” Nick flopped the back of his wrist across his forehead dramatically. Offering his wrists, he continued in full melodrama, “Go on. Slap on the cuffs and take me away.”

“One day, I’ll take you up on that offer. If you ever say it seriously.” Judy couldn’t believe that she had said that out loud. A swarm of butterflies suddenly decided to take flight in her stomach, and she smiled nervously.

“Why, Carrots…. How forward of you.” His teasing comment didn’t help ease her self-consciousness.

Nick led her into the kitchen she was already very familiar with. The table was laid, and extraordinarily delicious smells infused the air. She settled herself in her usual chair and commented, “If you’re going to be absurd and suggestive, so will I. Turnabout is fair play, after all.”

The fox cocked his head slightly as he set two glasses of water on the table and sat opposite her. “You feel I am absurd and suggestive, but insincere?”

Judy picked up the glass and drank. Partly because she was thirsty, but mostly so she had something to do with her paws. “I think you’re joking, like you always do.”

“Hmmm….” Nick tugged at his ear. “An unfortunate precedent on occasions like this.”

Judy was suddenly extremely focused. “What do you mean?”

“Given how the start to the evening has gone, shall we get to the important part before our collective anxiety kills us both?”

“Yes, please?”

“Agreed. We can have dinner afterwards.”

“Dinner? No modeling, first?”

“Not tonight.” Nick took a deep breath and seemed to forcibly settle himself. “I have prepared a small meal to send you off to your home for the break. I won’t see you until you return, and I would like to at least say thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Judy’s voice was strong, but she couldn’t meet his eyes as she replied. “You’ve done far more for me, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, sweetheart.”

The tone of his statement left her short of breath and giddy. He’d sounded completely genuine. There was no artifice in that moment or in his very open expression. 

“So,” Judy cleared her throat. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“When you come back from your family home, I want to start a new project with you.”

“OK…?”

“A hanging piece.”

All Judy could manage was rather frantic nodding. 

Nick chortled. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you’ll need to wait a little before giving me an answer.”

“Why? I’m ready to start today if you want!” She tried to stop herself from hopping in place. It was kittish and silly. She couldn’t help it.

“No, Carrots. You’ll need a little time to think about it, which is why I’m telling you before you go away for a bit. A little time and space to really think it through is wise for you and responsible for me.”

“I guess, but I’m all for it! … And you still seem nervous.”

“I am for a few reasons. I’ll be honest with you, Judy. I like you. I enjoy your company, and I value your presence.”

The room felt very warm to her, all of a sudden. “The feeling is mutual and then some. Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Now, I’m getting nervous.”

“That’s my fault.”

“I know. Look, Nick, just spit it out. Your nerves are affecting me, so let’s cut to the chase.”

“Alright. Here goes.” Judy noted the pink tinge in his ears and tried not to completely lose it. He was being adorably bashful, and it warmed her heart—and a few other things. But she ignored them in favor of complete confusion as he asked, “What do you know about shibari and kinbaku-bi?”

She shook her head. “Absolutely nothing. Are they cooking styles?”

Nick chuckled. “I’m sure your internet searching skills will educate you far more fully than I could at present, but let it suffice to say that the secret behind my hanging pieces is that particular artform.”

“You’re an artist in another medium? I had no idea.”

“Not exactly. You, um…might want to do that search on your phone before we continue the conversation, Carrots. I’d suggest an image search.”

With a raised eyebrow, Judy slipped her phone out of her pocket. A pawful of seconds later Judy’s ears were scarlet, and she knew her browser history would need erasing before she went home. 

“And now you know.”

She could feel the blush from her toes to the tips of her ears. “This is….”

“The common term is ‘rope bondage’, Carrots.”

Judy scrolled through page after page of results, becoming more embarrassed and fascinated by the moment. “Your inspiration is this?”

“Yes.” Nick sipped his water. “Beauty in restraint, freedom in restriction.”

“That was what that critic said after your last piece was unveiled at the museum!” Judy was proud to show off her knowledge of his recent career.

“Practically verbatim from the kinbaku manual I learned from once upon a time. He should have been sued for plagiarism.” 

“Did he know?”

Nick scoffed. “Sweet Karma, no! Could you imagine the backlash if he did?”

“Backlash…. You’re afraid of public opinion turning against you if they find out—it ruining you?”

“Which is why it’s such a closely guarded secret.” He grumbled. “It’s hard enough being a fox in the art world. Tack this on, and even my fame wouldn’t be enough to save me.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

“A risk I am unwilling to take.” Nick cleared his throat and sipped his glass of water before continuing. “It’s fairly obvious once you know, but who would believe that a famous, classically trained artist was inspired to create the Divine Flight series by something potentially considered so perverse?”

“I see…. I guess…” Judy mumbled. She was still blushing furiously and couldn’t meet his eyes as she put her phone away, but, under the skin, she felt electrified. He was trusting her with a huge secret. Something that could potentially destroy his career. And he wanted her to be a part of it. “What do you need from me?”

“You’re my model. I’ve asked you to pose for a hanging piece. You know what inspires those pieces now. So there’s only one question you need to answer.”

“Which is?”

Nick shrugged. “How far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?”

She groaned. “You just had to ruin the moment with a rabbit joke, didn’t you?”

“I don’t do serious very well.”

“No, you don’t.” Judy giggled into her paws. “Can I say yes now?”

“Not yet. I meant what I said about time and space to think. When you come back, if you’re still interested, we’ll begin working towards the piece. We have quite a bit of ground to cover before we get to that point.”

“Hang on. It’s modeling, right? What do we need to work towards?”

He leveled a flat look at her. “Carrots, are you familiar at all with kink, or bondage?”

“No…? I can’t say I am. I mean, I’m familiar with sex but….” She was suddenly red, again. “Oh, gods. I can’t believe I said that.”

Nick swallowed a guffaw at her unintentional admission. “You’re a healthy young lady in your early twenties. I’d be very confused if you didn’t have at least a passing understanding of the act of mating.”

“You sound like a nature program.”

“We ain’t nothin’ but mammals, sweetheart. I can do my David Attenburrow imitation if it helps.”

“Please don’t.” She muttered through her paws. “Save it for a time after my blood drains from my face and ears. The point?”

“Before you blush yourself to death? It’s quite fetching, by the way.”

Judy pulled her ears around her head and buried her face in them whining, “Nick…”

“My point is that you are completely inexperienced with anything like this. You need an education in this aspect of my life and to see what it’s all about before you can agree to taking part. And then you’ll need to get used to actually doing it.”

She peeked out from behind her ears. “Doing what?”

“Carrots, I want to tie you up, hang you naked from my studio ceiling, and immortalize you in clay. Are you ready to do that?”

“No!” She squeaked.

“Exactly. Judy, the hanging pieces are very close to my heart. They are personal to me in a way few appreciate for a reason you are now privy to. You are now part of a very small group of mammals I trust with that particular secret. If you are willing, I want you to be a larger part of it.”

“Like your muses.”

Nick nodded.

“You aren’t asking me to join a cult, are you?”

The fox barked out a laugh and the tension in the air shattered. “Not remotely! I am asking you to take some time over your break and research what you’re getting into. Talk to Skye and Jack. Celeste, too—if she’s around. Read up on it and think it over very thoroughly. If you’re interested when you come back from your break, we’ll talk about the next steps. If you aren’t, no harm no foul.” 

“I can tell you now that I want in, and I will keep your secret. I can’t deny that I’m a little nervous. And very curious, but I do want the chance to think it over.” 

Nick smiled and held up his paws. “Take all the time you need.” 

“I will, but…” Judy fiddled with her still-red ear. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I want to know more about you.”

Grinning as he headed towards the stove and their meal, he quipped, “Talk like that will give a fox ideas.”

“Wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events?” Judy asked softly.

The meal that followed was possibly the most exciting thing she had ever experienced. After the conversation that had started the evening, Judy felt electric, like every nerve had been set alight—and that was just the start. In the setting of candle light, the young doe felt like she’d been swept into a movie. She knew the fox preferred the gentler illumination, but that did nothing to lessen her enjoyment.

The main dish was a tureen, which came immediately on the heels of a light Greek salad and was followed by a luscious blackberry crumble. Simple dishes that were each very easy to ruin, but the fox managed them expertly. Throughout the meal, conversation was heavily one sided, owing to Judy’s enthusiasm. Each bite was a pleasure. She was through the salad and well into the tureen before she’d realized how ungracious she might seem. Her apologies were met with a smirking rebuke.

“If you start pretending to enjoy it less for the sake of manners, I’ll spank you.”

Recalling some of the pictures from her earlier web search, Judy choked on her water.

The remainder of the evening was spent in light discussion over coffee, but the sculptor refused to discuss anything further about the hanging pieces, or anything the creation of one with her would entail. It became a game for a time. Judy would prod, and Nick would dodge, evade, or redirect the conversation. She finally gave up when he started paying her compliments and very openly flirting with her. She became too flustered to keep up her interrogation. The fox was terribly amused. 

The warm feeling of trading quips with her crush over coffee stayed with the doe all the way home and through the night. The following morning her sister was very quick to comment when they met at the train station for the 7:05 express to Bunnyburrow.

“I guess the date went well.”

“Date?” Judy asked, arily.

“Your date last night with the fox. You were there, weren’t you?”

“I had dinner with him as a term-end celebration. That’s all.” Judy crossed her arms and regarded her sister levelly. “And how is that unusual?”

“It isn’t. The difference is that on most days you wake up smiling.” The younger Hopps sister took a long pull from her Snarlbucks coffee cup. “Gods only know how. Today, though, you’re grinning like you were lobotomized in the night.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I know. I’d smell it if he’d done more than hug you goodbye.” Hearing a distant rumble, the does looked down the tracks, confirming that the train was indeed arriving. The sisters collected their bags and readied to board. Ammy snuck a look at her sister from the corner of her eye and smirked. “Not that I can’t tell how much you enjoyed it.”

“Shut up…”

There was a break in the conversation as the pair let the disembarking passengers off and boarded the train themselves. As soon as they were seated in the upper mezzanine, Ammy was back on the attack. 

“Well?”

“‘Well what?”

“Have you figured out what you’re going to tell mom?”

“That depends...” Judy leveled a hard look at her sister. “On what you’ve told her.”

The train shifted under them and Ammy was quick to allay her sister’s fears. “Hey, I only sent that one picture. I learned my lesson.”

“This is mom we’re talking about. She could get water from a stone, so I know she’s gotten you to talk.”

“We both have to call home once a week, sis.” Ammy defended. “Don’t you talk to her?”

“She’s been suspiciously quiet on the topics of Jack, Nick, my modeling, and everything else I do outside of classes, so I know she’s getting information from somewhere. Your shifting eyes and droopy ears tell me it was at least partly you.”

“Alright. She asked a few questions. But come on! I can’t say no. She’s mom!”

“I don’t blame you.” Judy assured her sibling. “I do, however, want to know what she asked and what you answered.”

“Nothing serious, I promise. I told you I learned my lesson.” Ammy sipped her coffee. “Why do you care, anyway?”

“Because I know I’m walking into an interrogation the moment I get home, so I need all the information I can get to prepare.”

The younger doe looked concerned as she asked, “You think she’s going to do what she did to Emily and Joe?”

“I think it’s possible, and that’s enough.”

The rest of the trip was spent in a council of war. There were few mammals more capable of getting their child to talk than their mother. She was a master interrogator, and not a single one of the Hopps children would dare claim otherwise. Both Emly and Joe were Judy’s older siblings and had gotten caught some rather notably compromising positions when they had come back from college themselves. Emily had tried to keep her engagement to a hare in Podunk a secret in her third year, while Joe had come out of the closet during his first semester out of the warren. Somehow, the Hopps matron had known something was up and gotten it out of her children within the first day they’d been back to visit. Emily hadn’t even made it through the door. Joe was outed by dinner. 

There were no consequences for either of them, but they were secrets her siblings had held dear and their mother had known nothing before the day she had seen them. Judy was in an altogether more compromised position. Her mother knew more than she was comfortable with as it was, and Judy had more incendiary secrets than her sexual preferences or a secret engagement that needed to be kept. If her parents found out about what Nick had proposed the previous evening, she’d be in for a world of trouble convincing them to let her even return to school. The trick of it was to make her mother think she’d gotten the secret, when only she was getting a secret. 

That, Judy worried, would be difficult to manage for ten whole days.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are with the next installment! the story is finally making headway and we get to meet an interesting mammal or two. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> If you like what you see, consider buying me a coffee. The link is in my profile. 
> 
> Now, on with the show!

Judy was anxious. She’d been home for two days—two glorious, enlivening days. Arriving home was everything she’d hoped for. Every hour since stepping off the train in Bunnyburrow was filled with the things she had missed. She’d caught up with her littermates, met all her new nieces and nephews, eaten herself cross-eyed on her mother’s superb food, and fallen asleep in a veritable mountain of her siblings. And that was day one. 

 

The second day was much the same, complete with her triumphant return to the chores roster. It was in a limited capacity, perhaps, but she was glad to be back home and working on the farm again. At the end of her second day, Judy was equally glad it wouldn’t be for long. In the months since she’d left for university, she’d lost some of her conditioning as far as hard work went. It wasn’t a surprise. It did still hurt, though. A long, hot day in the fields was no longer her norm. Walking back from the fields with her siblings with the sun drawing towards the horizon was a nostalgic activity. She was sore, covered in grime, and grinning—swapping quips and stories with her siblings as they walked. It felt like she’d never left. Only, she had. She still enjoyed it.

 

Since arriving home, she’d been expecting her mother to pounce at any moment. She’d fretted and worried as she and Ammy had put together her battle plans, but now it looked as though it had been unnecessary. Judy had not been accosted by her father or pulled into an interrogation by her mother, so she was tentatively optimistic. It was coming, she was sure, but it hadn’t yet. It was a relief. And a worry. She was sure it would be any time, now.

 

Dinner happened in its usual gleeful chaos of minor food fights, chatting around mouthfuls of food, and the scrape of silverware on plates. Dignified, fine dining it was not, but it was heavenly to her. 

 

Right until her mother wandered by, again.

 

“Eat up, bun-bun. You look thin.”

 

“I am perfectly healthy. Thank you.”

 

“You’re all lean muscle!”

 

“Exactly, healthy.”

 

“For a jackrabbit, maybe,” her mother retorted as she tapped another spoonful of mashed cauliflower onto her plate. “Mind your health and your figure, sweetheart. A doe needs curves, not angles.”

 

Bonnie had already turned away, so she missed her daughter guzzling water to clear her throat as Judy almost gagged on her food. 

 

It was such a Nick-ish turn of phrase and so out of the blue that it floored her. Judy could feel her face and ears heating up, imagining those words in his voice. The rest of her meal passed in giddy silence as her mind supplied all the directions that line could take her with her crush. She was so distracted that she thought nothing of helping her mother with the dishes after the meal ended. 

 

Usually, the majority of the task was taken care of by a chosen group on a rotating schedule, but Bonnie always insisted that she attend to the dishes of the kits who helped out in the kitchen herself. It was a small reward to the kitchen helpers not to clean up their own dishes. One Judy was happy to help with, as she was no longer on the rotation. She realized her gaff as soon as she was elbow-deep in soapy water.

 

“Tell me, Judy. How’s your modeling coming?”

 

This was it. “Fine!”

 

Her mother’s eye roll and sigh were not expected. “Judith Hopps, you are not a teenager. ‘Fine’ didn’t cut it then, and it certainly will not now.”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Am I really such a monster?”

 

Judy shook the suds off her paws and crossed her arms. “If ‘fine’ wont work for me, the guilt trip won’t work for you.”

 

“Does that mean you’ll answer me like an adult?”

 

Judy groaned. “Work is work. I don’t know what to tell you.”

 

“Uh-huh…”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll tell you what, Bun-bun. I’ll be plain with you. If I do that, will you stop being so nervous?”

 

Judy grabbed another pate and turned back to her sink. “I’m not nervous.”

 

“Fibber. You’re worried I’ll pry into your life and meddle.” Now, it was Bonnie’s turn to cross her arms. “You should be. I’m a mother, and it’s my job to keep an eye on my kits. No matter how old they think they are.”

 

“I remember what happened with Emily and Joe. And a few others. Can you blame me for being nervous?”

 

“Judy….  Joe was terrified of being disowned for being gay. I forced the issue so he would see we loved him regardless and pave the way for your other siblings to come out of the closet without the trauma and fear.” Her mother snorted derisively. “And as for Emily, she went to college three weeks before her seventeenth birthday, was engaged at nineteen to Tom—a buck seven years her senior whom we’d never met. Considering her age and all that, was I wrong to worry?”

 

Judy shrugged, refusing to meet her mother’s eyes. “I can’t say no…. You were a little heavy-handed…”

 

“True. I had to be. I look out for all my kits, including you. Now, I have forty-four homosexual kits who are perfectly happy being who they are, and Emily is happily married with three litters.”

 

“To a different buck.”

 

“That was her choice. I wasn’t involved in their breakup.” Judy’s mother smiled as she placed another plate onte drying rack. “I did, however, make sure they had a serious conversation about their futures before they got married. As it turned out, they didn’t have the same goals. Now, she’s happy and Tom is a pilot. They’re still in touch, too.”

 

“Alright. You’ve made your point.” Judy fidgeted at her sink. “What do you want to know?”

 

“I know you’re working with a famous artist. I did look him up online, just to be clear.”    
  


Judy cut in. “You don’t sound disapproving.”

 

Bonnie’s voice rose with her eyebrow. “Should I be?”

 

Judy shrugged and turned back to her sink. 

 

Her mother huffed in annoyance. “Judith, please stop being so cagey. I’m not going to bite your head off.”

 

“Alright, alright. Go on.”

 

“I know he’s got a favorable,” Bonnie pause, searching for a fitting turn of phrase, “...if strange reputation, and a housemate. That lovely buck Ammy saw you with.”

 

“Yes….” Judy narrowed her eyes at her mother’s phrasing. “I did  _ thank _ her for that little incident.”

 

“Be nice to your sister. She was looking out for you.”

 

“I guess…. Were you guys really that happy to see me with a buck?”

 

“Honestly? Yes.” Bonnie sighed at her daughter’s scowl. “Sweetheart, you’ve always been unusual for a rabbit. You’re as stubborn as Pop-pop, as strong-willed as I am, and as emotional as you father—but you hide it better.” Judy felt embarrassed at the backhanded compliments. “It makes you passionate and driven. It also places you out in a world we don’t understand very well. It scares us sometimes.”

 

“I’m not trying to upset you.” Judy jammed a plate into the drying rack and snatched another from the pile. “I just want to follow my dream. Art means everything to me, and I want to see where it can take me.”

 

“And we want you to succeed. We will always worry about you, so try to help us understand what’s happening. It’ll take a little fear out of it for us and make your father infinitely more manageable.”

 

Judy giggled. “Ok.”

 

Judy’s mother dried her paws and fixed her sights on her daughter. “Good. Now, tell me all about this fox you have a crush on.”

 

“Oh gods....” Judy looked everywhere except her mother. “It’s not a crush!”

 

Amusement suffused the older rabbit’s voice. “Infatuation, then?”

 

“It’s—It’s something,” Judy stammered into her sink.

 

“It’s a crush.”

 

“Fine…” Judy conceded. “It’s a crush. My beet-red ears agree with you.”

 

“Is your attraction one-sided?”

 

“I don’t think so…” Judy muttered before hiding her face behind her ears. Her mother’s hum drew her back out instantly. “What?”

 

“May I offer you some advice?”

 

Judy had never heard her mother speak so…formally to her before. It felt odd, but fortifying. Like she was being treated as an equal. “Um, sure.”

 

Bonnie’s tone was even and serious as she said, “If you are serious about pursuing a relationship with him, end your business relationship immediately.”

 

“What? Why?!”

 

“It’s risky to mix money and emotions. There is a whole lot that can go badly wrong, especially early in the relationship. And it isn’t a healthy way to pursue either your work or your romance.”

 

“I guess I can see that. But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

 

“A little bit,” Bonnie admitted. 

 

“What is it, then?”

 

“You’re going to be the first doe in the family to date outside the lapidae family, and a fox, at that. Before you do anything else, you need to have a long, hard think about what that will mean.”

 

“It means I’ll have a boyfriend no everyone approves of. Hardly my first departure from the rabbit norm,” Judy commented acerbically.

 

“Tip of the iceberg, Bun-Bun.” Bonnie sighed. “Your father and I will support you no matter what, but you will be facing social fallout no matter what you do. Friends, family, strangers…. Some mammals won’t be accepting. It’ll add strain to your relationship.”

 

Judy rocked back on her heels as the understanding dawned. “Especially, if I’m being paid by my boyfriend.”

 

“Now, you’re seeing it.” Bonnie smiled, relieved.

 

“I hadn’t really thought about it that way before. Thanks, mom.”

 

In response, Bonnie wrapped her daughter in a tight hug and nuzzled her. 

 

“Now…” The elder doe smirked. “’Boyfriend’?”

 

Judy rolled her eyes. “Not yet. But before I say anything else—“

 

Bonnie slid the drying racks under the kitchen fans. “Hmmm?”

 

Judy fixed her mother with an even gaze. “I’m the first  _ doe _ in the family to date outside the lapidae family?”

 

The Hopps matron grinned. “Your brother Anthony is dating a very nice cerval.”

 

“Well, I’ll be.”

 

~

 

That night, Judy borrowed her father’s ancient farm truck and spewed dirt all over the place as she headed out to The Dust Up. The ancient grain cellar had been part of the first farm that founded Bunnyburrow and granted as an endowment to the town. No one had any idea what to do with the huge, largely underground, building, so they’d put it to a vote. Much to the embarrassment of the town’s leaders, it had been elected to become a public house in the Old-World style, complete with taps, stools, picnic-style tables, chairs & benches, and a magnificent, paw-crafted mahogany bar. 

 

Since its completion, it had served as the unofficial town hall and community center for the greater Tri-burrows area. The beer was always excellent. The food was plentiful, and there was space enough in the huge converted central hall for at least a thousand rabbits with elbow room to spare—room enough to accommodate the sprinkling of other species throughout the daily crowd, and then some. It was a favorite hangout for the locals after a hard day in the fields and the place of choice for meeting up with old friends. 

 

It took less than a second for Judy to find her party. In school, her friends had been a crew of weirdos and misfits. Now, they were older and even more unmistakable: a jaguar, a black sheep, a cougar, an albino skunk, a weasel, and a fox. It was made even easier by the piercing squeal from the sheep seconds before she all but tackled her rabbit friend.

 

“JUDE! You made it!” Judy dangled in her friend’s embrace for a moment before counterattacking. She dug her fingers into the sheep’s ribs and wiggled them furiously. “Yeep!”

 

“Nice to see you never learn, Shar.”

 

“Why would I?” the sheep replied with a shrug. “Takes all the fun out of life.”

 

With that, Judy was hauled over to the table and squished between Sharla and Jonah Fangstein, the jaguar. The big cat raised his glass with a smile in welcome. Bobby Catmull grinned and wordlessly slid over the menu. For a moment, she just took it all in. 

 

Everyone was recognizable, but so very different—despite being the same. Everyone was taller, for one thing. Jonah and Bobby were lanky felines towering over the table. Granted, they’d been tall when they’d left for school seven months ago, but their height seemed enhanced now they’d filled out some. Both males weren’t the wiry felines they’d been. They looked solid, with the first glimmer of adult confidence—thicker fur, less uncertainty and awkwardness. As she looked around the table, she saw further evidence of her friends maturing. 

 

Sharla was sporting thicker wool and a less lamb-like shearing. Travis was no longer hiding behind Gideon and was engaging the others with enthusiasm. Gideon wasn’t cringing away from interacting with others, finally forgiving himself for his poor behavior as a kit. It was good to see. The biggest change was visible in Alana. 

 

Judy grinned as she looked over her old friends. “So, guys, how’s school?”

 

The table collectively groaned. Everyone was instantly consumed with complaining about professors and deadlines. Sharla griped about her physics professors, and Bobby whined about his advanced musical theory project. Jonah traded complaints about his forensic accounting exams with Travis who commiserated with stories of his miserable time on his Small Business Management final. The only ones at the table who weren’t too upset were Gideon—who happily told Judy all about his Culinary Arts classes and the plan he and Travis were putting together to open a bakery after graduation—and Alana. 

 

The albino mustelid had always been the quiet one in the group. Conservative dresser, soft spoken, uncomfortable in her own skin. She’d always been shy, ashamed of her albinism. She had stood out because of her genetic mutation, but that was all. That was also then. Apparently, gone was the bashful nerd along with her old look. 

 

Dun colored, functional clothes had given way to fashionable self-presentation that complimented her unusual fur coloration. Minimal grooming had become flattering application of make-up. She wasn’t exactly a wild flower, but gone were the days of dyed fur and self-depreciation. In her place was a much more confident, much more relaxed version of the skunk Judy had known since fourth grade. Her early placement at ZU and the semester head start she had on the rest of them may have had something to do with it. Judy was intrigued. While everyone else was chattering, Alana was sitting back and smiling.

 

About three hours into their reunion, everyone had simmered down. The initial excitement from seeing each other after so many months had worn off, and they’d started to mingle with the rest of the room, catching up with old friends and acquaintances as they wandered in and out of the bar. Gideon and Sharla were chatting with classmates at the high tops while the boys commandeered a dartboard, like they always did. Alana had slipped off to the ladies’ and hadn’t returned since the others had wandered off, leaving Judy in a moment of quiet. Judy decided to do a little more research while she waited. No one was paying her any mind, so she didn’t see the harm. 

 

She was well into an article on binding techniques for the lower limbs when Alana’s voice cut through her attention, far too close to her ear. “I see college is broadening your horizons.”

 

Judy blushed furiously as she stuffed her phone into her pocket. 

 

“That won’t make me un-see it, Jude.”

 

The embarrassed rabbit pulled her ears over her face. “It’s not what you think!” 

 

“I think some-bunny’s interests have expanded.” The mustelid leaned in smirking. “Am I wrong?”

 

“Sorta?”

 

“Come on, Judy. Let’s have this conversation out in the privacy of outdoors.”

 

Resigning herself, Judy nodded. “I could use some fresh air, anyway.”

 

Once they were outside, she wasted no time in cutting to the chase. “What do you want, Alana?”

 

“Awfully suspicious, aren’t you?” Alana commented as she led her friend to a more secluded spot away from the main doors.

 

“Can you blame me?” Judy grumbled, pushing her paws into her pockets. 

 

Alana turned with one paw on her hip. “Wow, Judy. You really don’t trust me?”

 

Sensing the hurt in her friend’s voice, Judy relented. “I’m…a bit on edge.”

 

“You weren’t exactly being discreet, looking at that in a crowded bar.”

 

“It was just text! There weren’t any pictures,” Judy defended. “And how did you know?”

 

“I recognized the URL.”

 

Judy blinked in disbelief. “You…know that site?”

 

“It’s a good place for beginners to get information on the kink lifestyle. Of course, I know it.” Alana’s giggles told Judy she was doing a poor job of hiding her surprise. “Close your mouth, Judy, or you’ll catch flies.”

 

“You know about this stuff?”

 

Alana’s grin was cocky by anyone’s standards. “A good bit more than you do, I see.”

 

Judy lifted her chin defiantly. “Prove it.”

 

Alana chuckled. “How would I do that? Should I tell you about my master and mistress? Or would you prefer to hear about my interest in full body restraints and applied riding crop theory?”

 

Judy blushed. “Ok. I believe you.”

 

“How about proper maintenance of my restraint set and toys?”

 

“You can stop any time now.”

 

Alana laughed and leaned against the side of the building. “I have to say, you’re the last one of us I expected go to kinkster, sweetie.”

 

“I’m not! I don’t think I am, anyway….” Judy anxiously pulled at her already drooping ears. “Oh, I don’t know!”

 

“Whoa, Judy…. Easy.” Alana stepped in, placing a paw on her rabbit friend’s shoulder. “I was just teasing.”

 

“So you were making all that stuff up?”

 

“No, I was dead serious about all of it. I was just giving you a hard time.” Alana walked the distressed rabbit over to sit on a bench. “What’s going on with you?”

 

Staring at her paws Judy mumbled, “Long version or short?”

 

“Short, for now. We can get deeper into it later. Now, what’s going on?”

 

“…Earlier this semester I took a job as a model,” Judy began. “I needed a break, and it was convenient. The sculptor is pretty famous, so I was thrilled.”

 

Alana’s eyebrow rose fractionally. “Did he proposition you?”

 

“No! Nothing like that. We’ve been working together for months now, and he only just asked me if I’d model for….” Judy felt her ears heating up again. “Oh, hells…. How do I explain this?”

 

“If you’re worried about me keeping secrets, remember, I just told you about a lot of things that I want kept between us.” Alana covered Judy’s fidgeting paws with her own. “I’ll do the same for you as long as you do so for me.”

 

Judy smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, and I won’t say a word about you to anyone. But this isn’t just my secret.”

 

“Ah…. You’re worried about betraying his trust.”

 

Judy nodded vigorously.

 

Alana grimaced in understanding. “I understand your worry, but, trust me, I’m not saying anything to anyone. I know how my parents would react to finding out about my circumstances away from home.”

 

Judy fussed with her ears again. “He did say I should ask people who know…”

 

“There you go then.”

 

“What  _ are _ your circumstances?”

 

“Nosey rabbit.” Alana smirked. “About six weeks into my first semester away from home, I went to my first kink event. There was a munch, followed by reserved time at a local fetish club. I made a few friends, saw a few things. Including a sweet little weasel and her boyfriend. We hit it off, and I started seeing more of them. Fast forward to now, I’m dating them as a pair.”

 

“A pair?”

 

Alana nodded, grinning. “And we have kinky fun as often as we can manage the time and money to do so. It isn’t easy all the time, and it may not last forever.” 

 

“So, you aren’t…um…owned, or anything?”

 

“Hah! I consider that basically marriage. So hells no! I’d need to know them for a couple years before I’d even consider it. If it lasts that long, anyway. And there would be some heavy negotiations before I agreed to anything like that. I’m nowhere near ready to settle into a long-term commitment in any way.” Alana crossed her arms. “Now, I’ve given you plenty. It’s time to reciprocate.”

 

“The, um…artist is a sculptor. He’s known for his hanging pieces.”

 

“I see…”

 

“You know him?” 

 

The skunk’s triumphant grin unsettled her. “Only vaguely. There’s some speculation about those sculptures of his in the community, but nothing serious. It’s nice to hear it confirmed.”

 

“You can’t say anything!”

 

“I won’t. I promise,” Alana intoned with her paw up. “Not even to my couple.” She went so far as to draw a cross over her heart.

 

“Alright…” Judy fussed with the hem of her shirt. “I started modeling for him, and he started helping me with my art. We’ve gotten kind of close. Before I left for break, he asked me to model for a hanging piece. Said I should do my research and talk to people who know.” 

 

Alana nodded, considering. “Responsible of him. That’s a good sign.”

 

“How long have you been, um…”

 

“Kinky?” Alana huffed a hollow laugh laugh. “Gods, I can’t remember when I wasn’t. I had to hide it until I got out of my parents’ house, but it was worth the wait.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what? Hide it?”

 

“No, that I get.” Judy laughed nervously. “Why do it?

 

She shrugged. “It’s fun, and I enjoy it. It also pays the bills.”

 

“You’re a prostitute?!”

 

Alana’s look was flat, but amused. “I’m a fetish model. My scholarship covers some of my tuition, but I have to work to cover the rest and living expenses.”

 

Judy shook her head. “Talk about a turn around.”

 

“Bookish nerd and varsity chess team to this.” Alana swept a paw down her body. “I know. It’s always the quiet ones.”

 

“Is there any advice you can give me?”

 

“Keep it safe and consensual. Know what you’re doing ahead of time.” Alana counted off on her fingers. “Research EVERYTHING. Don’t hesitate to safeword. Make sure someone knows where you’re going, and when you’ll be back. Be smart, and never do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

 

“So, use my common sense.”

 

“Common sense isn’t common, and it’s easy to forget when you’re all flustered. Especially when you’re crushing.”

 

“I know. It’s obvious,” Judy groaned into her hands.

 

“One other thing, Judy…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re going to be modeling. That isn’t the same thing as having a scene. It sounds glamorous, but you’re going to be bored and stiff from holding a position for extended periods of time more than anything.”

 

“I know it’s going to be work, but I can’t help but be a little excited.”

 

Alana pulled out her phone and beckoned Judy over. She watched as her friend punched in a web address and suddenly she was seeing a lot more of her friend’s fur and figure than she had expected. 

 

“Here.  These were pictures from my last session.”

 

“Oh, my gods…”

 

“Thanks,” Alana smirked.

 

Judy goggled as she flipped through picture after picture. “These are incredible.”

 

“And took seven hours to do.” Alana’s sigh brough Judy up short. “The lighting, positioning, makeup and outfit took forever to get right, and then the photographer only got five or six photos they were happy with out of several hundred shots.”

 

“That sounds a bit um…”

 

“Arduous?” Alana shrugged. “I was well paid for my time and get a small commission on every sale, but I was bored to death for most of it. Your modeling and mine are different in some ways, but it won’t be all glamor and naughty fantasies. Porn is not life imitating art.”

 

Judy couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I had realized that. Thanks, ‘Lana.”

 

The skunk held up a finger, stopping her. “But, if you’re crushing on this artist of yours, you should make sure you go into this with a clear understanding of what you  _ both _ want out of this. You want it to be intimate? Racey? Sensuous? Painful? Say so.”

 

Judy cringed. “Painful?”

 

“Don’t knock it until you try it, honey.” Alana smirked, before sobering again. “It may sound weird, but you obviously aren’t looking at this like a job anymore. My advice is to be clear, communicative, and absolutely transparent at all times. It’s going to embarrass you to death at first, but it’ll keep the professional relationships professional and the personal relationships stable. If they won’t be straight with you, don’t trust them. No matter who they are.”

 

“Thanks, ‘Lana. I appreciate it.”

 

“My pleasure.” The albino skunk smiled. “Listen…. I know I’m a semester ahead and we’re on opposite sides of campus, but don’t be a stranger, yeah? You’ve got my number. If you need advice or support, call me.”

 

“I will. I think I’ll be seeing a lot more of you, won’t I?”

 

“I’d say so. Even more so if you get involved in the kink community.” 

 

Judy giggled, finally relaxing a little. “I suppose so.”

 

“Kink is a small world. But you can relate to that, can’t you?”

 

“Yeah…” Judy nodded ruefully. “Art is too.”

 

~

 

Two days later, Judy needed some space. Her talks with her mother and Alana had warred for space in her brain alongside the other things she’d been roped into doing on the farm. So when she got a chance to take a breather, she took it.

 

The hike was just as long as she’d remembered, out to the edge of the family farm and her favorite spot. The creek that split the farm was one of her family’s delights. Upriver, it was cold and fresh right from the mountains. It fed the wells and irrigation system keeping the produce growing and (according to her father) gave it that “certain something” that made it a Hopps’ product. Downriver, it was warmer after winding through the fields—perfect for swimming and carrying on during the warm months. 

 

Right before the waterway left the Hopps’ farm, it took a turn back towards the woods that skirted the lower fields. Not far from the long, hook-shaped bend was a hill with an old oak on it. The tree had been half dead for longer than Judy had been alive, and it had been one of her favorite places to go as a kit. At first, to climb and explore, but, before long, she was returning with crayons and paper. As the years passed, both she and her art supplies had matured, but not the sense of wonder. In her last two years of high school, she had decided she’d outgrown the place and had not been back since. As she sat in her old favorite spot, she wondered how she could have been so stupid. 

 

She was home.

 

She’d brought nothing with her but her thoughts and the clothes on her back. She was glad of the lack of distraction. For the first time in ages, she just sat there, in her place, and existed.

 

The cool air from the mountains was mixing with the warmer air off the fields, kicking up dust that shimmered in the midafternoon light. The ordered chaos of the fields stretched out from the foot of the hill, hemmed in by the woods on one side and the ancient dirt road in the distance. The water was a silver ribbon dancing through the landscape. It was everything she had remembered, plus a couple years. All so familiar, but all so new. The breeze carried the smell of wildflowers and sap to her nostrils, and Judy sighed in total contentment.

 

For a moment.

 

Very soon after arriving, something began to niggle at the back of her mind. The longer she sat and relished the pastoral nostalgia, the stronger the niggling became—until it clicked. 

 

_ This was what he meant.  _

 

The rest of her break was a flurry of activity. Her minimal chores were completed as quickly as possible, and then she was occupied until nightfall. For two whole days, she roamed with the old, terrible digital camera she’d stolen from her older sister many years previously, immortalizing. 

 

When that was done, for the remaining days on the farm, Judy worked feverishly to encapsulate her home—every scent, every sound, every texture. Flowers and ferns were collected and pressed in an ancient dictionary no one ever used. Leaves and stones from the creek and fields were assembled and bagged, along with bark from the woods and a small container of clay from the new well. They joined the pile alongside an oil rag from the machine shop, dusty hay from the old barn, clippings from the flower bed, a rattle from the nursery, one of her mother’s retired oven mitts, and the pipe Pop-Pop had been banned from smoking for twenty years.

 

Her rucksack was much heavier when she left her home to return to the university. She was further encumbered by a full crate of produce and a large care package tied up in a cloth from her mother. The note attached forbade her from opening it until she was home, and Judy was not about to disobey. Even though she was out on her own, she knew her mother was psychic. If she even considered opening the package early, she’d receive a phone call before the knot was undone. 

 

Once off the train, Judy hauled her luggage to the studio and dug into the task of setting herself up. She had a little corner proper to herself. It was just a semi-enclosed nook by the windows with a shelf and an end table for her supplies. The easel was tilted towards the light, just the way she’d left it. Her brushes were sitting dry in their mason jar holder. The spatter of dried pigment on old, worn wood and the smattering of shadow on canvas from the tree outside the window greeted her like old friends. It felt like she hadn’t been to her spot on campus in ages, but it had only been a couple months. 

 

The crate plopped onto the floor. Her bags came to rest on top of it, and the fun began.

 

An hour later, Judy was spattered with pigment herself and grinning like a loon. She’d intended to set everything so the scents and smells could permeate her little space in preparation for her triumphant return to painting. Then the smell of the wildflowers had hit her. Before she’d known it, she was sketching on her blank canvas. Then, it was paint. Then, it was impossible to stop. 

 

For the first time in far too long, her art was joyful. The familiar weight of her brushes, the feel of the canvas under the stroke of paint, the vision in her mind forming before her eyes—it was like magic. The fiddle became a flow, and then a flood. Her brush flew. 

 

When she finally stepped back, she saw her favorite view from the old oak. 

 

She understood. The assignments she’d been given, the experiences she’d been sent off to have. They made sense. What’s more, she understood something else. She knew what she wanted. 

 

Riding the frenzy, she dashed to the slop sink across the studio and filled her soaking cup. Her brushes splashed into it, and her palet was unceremoniously scrapped with a paper towel before it was hung to dry by her window. Judy cleared her paws of paint as best she could but didn’t worry overmuch. She knew Nick wouldn’t mind, no matter how she looked. She stuffed her care package into her now-lighter rucksack and hoisted her crate before sprinting out the door towards Safflower Lane. 

  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Another rollicking rally-round of awkwardness and sexual tension!
> 
> My eternal gratitude goes to:
> 
> kt_valmiri for collaboration and soundboarding.  
> Damlone & BlueberryandHoney for beta reading.  
> OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing.
> 
> If you're interested in supporting my writing you can buy me a coffee. Check out the link in my profile for more details. On we go!

A fast walk saw Judy impatiently standing on the doorstep with her foot tapping a centipede’s march. She knew someone was home and hoped vehemently that it was Nick, so she could make her move before her nerve deserted her. She had such glorious plans, each more romantic and fairytale-esque than the last. Instead, she’d found herself interrupting what could only have been called a modeling session turned almost-lover’s spat.

 

Anxiety and annoyance were instantly replaced by relief on Jack’s face when he yanked open the door and found her breathless on the doorstep. “Judy! Thank the Makers. Come in!”

 

“Jack? What’s wrong?”

 

Her answer came in the form of an irate Skye barreling through the doorway into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an open, flapping robe.

 

The doe’s eyes bugged as she back peddled out the door as fast as propriety—and the crate in her paws—would allow her. “Nevermind! Sorry for interrupting!”

 

“Judy, no! Nothing’s happening,” Jack assured her.

 

Skye fumed for a moment, mumbling, “Not for lack of trying.”

 

Judy held up her paws and continued to back towards the stairs. “Seriously, I’ll go. You two need a little space.”

 

“No, Judy…. I—” Skye sighed, closing her robe. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. You just had some really bad timing.”

 

Judy warily glanced between the two other mammals. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” The arctic vixen flumped onto a chair in the kitchen in a sulk as Judy reentered the house.

 

Jack closed the door and started making tea. “If you’re looking for Nick, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He’s out until the weekend.”

 

“Out? Out where?”

 

“Off meeting with gallery owners and a curator for a tour of his work out of town. They have the spaces prepped, but Nick was insistent on being included on the final lighting for his work.” Jack set a cup of tea in front of her usual seat as he spoke. “He wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

 

Finally, Judy set her crate and satchel down, hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake in staying. “I came back early.”

 

“Desperate to escape the family?”

 

“No, actually.” Judy replied goodnaturedly. “I was glad of my time at home, but it was a little more…inspirational than I had anticipated.”

 

“You’re back at your easel?” Jack asked in surprised delight.

 

Judy nodded happily. “I just came from the studio. I have my midterm piece almost done!”

 

“The term hasn’t even begun!” Pleasure gave way to uncertainty in the professor’s voice. “Are you sure it’s going to be your submission?”

 

Judy giggled at the turn of phrase. “Yes, and speaking of ‘submission’ I wanted to talk to Nick about negotiating a scene.”

 

The vixen and buck shared a surprised look.

 

Skye cleared her throat. “This is a little quick, isn’t it?”

 

Judy cocked her head. “Is it?”

 

Jack poured the now-steeped tea and asked, “Judy, did something happen while you were home? Other than serendipitous inspiration, I mean.”

 

“Yes. I talked to my mother and a friend. They gave me a little insight into what I wanted.”

 

“Does this ‘friend’ have a name?” Skye asked cheekily.

 

Judy raised an eyebrow and snarked, “ _Her_ name is Alana.”

 

Jack rubbed his chin. “Skunk? Albino? Really nice curves?”

 

“Nice curves, huh?” Skye’s voice was pure ice and acid as she glared the buck down.

 

“Yes, nice curves,” the buck replied evenly. “Perfect as a stand in for you, if this is going the direction I think it is.”

 

Both ladies blinked at the buck in surprise, Skye with a pink tinge in her ears and Judy fighting a smile.

 

He continued. “If I am not mistaken, Judy, you’ve decided to accept Nick’s offer to model for a hanging piece?”

 

Judy met the question with confidence. “Yes, I have.”

 

“Skye, you know how this works. She’ll need a demonstration first. Celeste is up to her whiskers in her thesis research, if I am not mistaken, therefore you are the best candidate for it.” Jack stirred his tea and took a sip before raising an eyebrow at the fox. “Unless you want to do a full day of modeling for Nick and then the _real_ demo all by yourself…”

 

“Probably not…”

 

“ _Real_ demo?” Judy asked uncertainly.

 

Skye sipped her tea. “We have a week, Jack.”

 

Judy huffed in annoyance. “I’m still here, by the way.”

 

“You are and Nick isn’t.” Jack replied with unusual force. “By rights he should be talking to you, but he isn’t here and we have an opportunity to help you get ready.”

 

Mildly taken aback, Judy replied “I’ve done plenty of reading and Alana was a huge help.”

 

Skye laid a comforting paw on Judy’s shoulder, “Then you’ve started, but there’s a long way to go.”

 

~

 

The next several days were filled with long, involved, exhaustive conversations. Judy learned several dozen times more than she ever expected she could about kink and rope in particular. By the time Nick returned and the term began, Judy was well and truly ready for their discussion.

 

It all lead up to today.

 

Uncertainty plagued Judy as she made her way to Safflower lane. This was it. The big day. She was practically vibrating in anticipation. The urge to binky was nigh overwhelming. The only thing that kept her feet of the ground was her nervousness. Granted, she was only going to be observing, but it was going to be a big step for her.

 

The day she’d returned to school she’d been prepared to corner her now-former employer, negotiate limits and terms for her first scene with him, and throw herself wholeheartedly into whatever was to come, devil may care! Now, she was very, very glad he hadn’t been home. The time with her friends had given her the perspective she needed.

 

Judy had reached out to Alana to act as Celeste’s stand-in at Jack’s suggestion and with Nick’s blessing. The skunk was beside herself at the opportunity. She was still enthusiastic, even as they stood on the porch to the house. It was both comforting and a little uncomfortable for the young rabbit. It was good to see the excitable little geek she’d known shining through the calm, confident adult her friend had become. She was also jealous. Her friend was about to get what she herself wanted very badly and on her recommendation. Yes, Alana was an experienced fetish model and knew her business. That was a small consolation to Judy as she raised her paw and knocked.

 

Alana’s even, lightly mocking voice startled her from her reverie. “Deep breath, Jude. It’ll be fine.”

 

“That doesn’t worry me. Everyone involved in this is a professional except me, and I’m observing.”

 

Alana put her paw on Judy’s shoulder and smiled understandingly. “I get it. You took months to get here and I’m just walking in.”

 

“Yep.” Judy popped the syllable, not bothering to hide her frustration. “I have to say it’s a little…”

 

“Grating? Frustrating? Vexing?”

 

“I’m jealous as hell, ‘Lana.” Judy rolled her shoulders, trying to let the tension go a little.

 

Her friend chuffed a laugh. “I don’t blame you, but you’re about to see a modeling session. I’m not doing the scene.”

 

“I know. I know! I’m jealous of Skye too,” Judy whined. “I want— Oh, hells, I want to be the one being tied. I don’t want to be stuck watching while everyone else has fun.”

 

Alana smiled knowingly. “Oh, Judy…. I doubt very much that this will be fun the way you’re thinking.”

 

She hated to admit that Alana was probably right. Either way, the frustration wasn’t going anywhere, so she’d just have to grin and bear it. Once the door opened, the easy enthusiasm the skunk had been showing was gone and she was all cool professionalism.

 

Skye answered the door and the day was off and running. “Judy! And you must be Alana.”

 

“Skye, I presume…?” Alana was all confident smiles as she took the proffered paw.

 

“Correctly,” the vixen replied with a smile before turning to Judy. “Nervous?”

 

Judy shrugged. “A little.”

 

“It’ll pass in about fifteen minutes.” Skye’s grin helped ease the butterflies. “Come on. The others are waiting.”

 

That caught Judy’s attention. “Others? How many others?”

 

“Nick and Jack, obviously. But we also have Celeste joining us today.”

 

Alana draped her jacket over a chair and set her handbag on the kitchen table. “I assume my services are still required?”

 

“They are,” Skye replied from the door to the hall. “You and I are handling the modeling. My sister, however, needs a break. Her thesis is stressing her out, so she asked for Nick’s assistance.”

 

Alana beamed. “Ah! That’ll be interesting.”

 

The vixen smirked. “And a relief for me. A scene after a session is a bit much.”

 

“Not to interrupt,” Judy inserted. “But could I get a clue?”

 

Alana laughed. Skye cleared her throat in embarrassment and replied, “Sorry. It means Celeste will be doing the scene in my place. Once the art portion is done I can relax and enjoy the show with you.”

 

Judy nodded and the arctic vixen led the pair back to the studio space. Once they were in the studio, Judy’s nerves only got worse. The whole space looked different. The seating was shifted slightly to get a better view of the work and display spaces, both of which were different from how she had seen them to date. The platform she had assumed was for display had a large metal ring hanging over it by a reinforced rock-climbing rig attached to the ceiling. Nick’s workbench was gone, and in its place was hanging a nearly complete clay form that was unmistakably vulpine and female.

 

The doe rabbit felt her artistic instincts warring with her uncertainty and emotional turmoil. She felt completely outclassed. And then Celeste walked in and fainting became an option. Alana was an old friend and Skye was someone she knew fairly well. That said, both females were everything Judy quietly wished she could be—curvy, lithe, graceful, and confident. The fact that they would be nude, or at least mostly nude, through the modeling only added to her sense of self-consciousness. Skye’s mysterious older sister put them both to shame in every respect and made it look easy.

 

The world seemed to drop out from under Judy as she stared.

 

Celeste was everything Skye was, only more so. Judy had never seen a prettier, or better put-together female. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Her ice-blue eyes held all the self-assurance in the world, her fur was immaculately groomed, and her wardrobe looked like it came from a fashion show. It only made it worse that she was so friendly.

 

Celeste’s voice was silk and sunshine backed up with a radiantly welcoming smile. “You must be Judy!”

 

The overwhelmed rabbit managed a weak nod.

 

 A moment later, all she could do was stiffen in surprise and grunt as the vixen pulled her into a hug. “Celeste Lumi. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Nick’s told me so much about you!”

 

Judy blinked in surprise. “He has?”

 

“Oh, yes! Skye, too, of course, but Nicky has talked about you every time I’ve seen him for the last couple months.” The vixen winked conspiratorially at her. “Very unusual for that reynard to be so effusive, so I just had to meet you. It’s half the reason I’m here today.”

 

“What’s the other half?”

 

“Ugh…” The vixen groaned. “I’m in the master’s program for fashion design, and I am dying from the stress. My internship ended a week ago, and my advisor was pushing the day I got back for me to get started on my thesis. I also have my fashion line to work on for finals. And I won’t have time to do that unless I start now, so I’ve been booked without rest for weeks. I need to relax.”

 

“And this works for you?”

 

The tension that had started to build in the vixen’s frame bled off in the instant Judy asked. “Judy, what Nick can do with rope definitely works for me.”

 

That gave Judy pause. She didn’t have time to pursue her curiosity as Nick entered the studio with Jack. The buck made a straight line to Alana and Judy with Nick following more leisurely behind.

 

“Alana?” Jack inquired.

 

“That’s me!”

 

“Jack Savage.” The pair shook paws in an appropriately brisk manner. “Do you have the non-disclosure agreement?”

 

Alana pulled a folded sheet from her pocket and handed to the buck.

 

He perused it briefly, muttering, “This looks in order…. Great! We’re all set.”

 

“Formally, perhaps,” Nick drawled.

 

Jack rolled his eyes and headed off with the document, tossing “Your turn, Nicky” over his shoulder.

 

At that, Nick turned to Judy and Alana with an easy smile. “The NDA is a formality my agent insists upon. I’m sure you understand.”

 

“I do.” Alana nodded sharply. “I appreciate the need for discretion from my own involvement in the lifestyle. I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Nick said with a smile. “That said, there’s something I want you to understand.”

 

Both females shared a look, but were entirely unprepared when Nick leaned into Alana’s personal space. “You are now privy to a very personal secret of mine. One I expect you to keep. You will not discuss this with anyone without my express permission under any circumstances. Understood?”

 

“Th—the, um…the agreement…”

 

“Is a formality for the business side of things only. This is also extremely personal to _me_ , therefore a personal touch is needed. I presume we understand each other?” The steel in his voice made it clear this was non-negotiable.

 

Alana took an involuntary half-step back. “W—we do. Not a soul without your personal permission. Period.”

 

“Excellent.” He was back to his usual easy smile and gentle voice before the word was finished.

 

Judy could only stare in confusion as the exchange progressed and shrug when Nick looked her way.

 

“You signed a contract when you first modeled for me, Carrots. And I know you well enough to trust you. With your vouching for her and our agreement, I now trust Miss Mephit here.”

 

“Ugh.” Alana cringed. “Could you please not call me that?”

 

Nick smiled mischievously. “Not a fan of nursery rhymes?”

 

“They lose their charm quick with a name like mine,” the skunk deadpanned.

 

“Well, you can rest easy Miss Mephit. There are no spiders in the studio.”

 

“Quite a relief,” she sassed back.

 

“There’s just a fox with some rope.” Nick locked eyes with the skunk as he deliberately dragged his tongue across his lips. “I hope you’ll find that more to your… _taste_.”

 

With that Nick meandered off to finish his preparations with his usual lackadaisical smirk, leaving the two females to stare after him. Judy was a little disconcerted at the display of dominance she’d just witnessed, but more so at her friend’s reaction. All Alana did for a few moments was fan herself with a paw, clearly flustered at the exchange. Judy tried to decide if the shiver up her spine had been jealousy or arousal and settled on both.

 

About that time, Jack returned and things began moving quickly. The buck joined Judy and Celeste in the seating area while Alana and Skye began to disrobe. Judy watched and grew more anxious with every square inch of fur that was exposed.

 

She nearly leapt out of her skin when Celeste leaned in and quietly assured her, “You don’t have to worry, honey. Skye is besotted with the striped buck and I’m…complicated.”

 

“Complicated?”

 

The older vixen leaned back and crossed her legs with a measured smile. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that the relationships around here are a little…outside normal definitions.”

 

Judy nodded.

 

“I’m no different.”

 

Judy blushed and asked, “With Nick?”

 

“With all of them.” The vixen quickly added, “Except Skye, of course. She’s my little sister. That’s the same.”

 

“So...you want in? Like Jack does?”

 

Celeste smile turned impressed. “He trusted you with that little tidbit? Good for you.”

 

“Thanks. Well?”

 

“You’re asking if I’d sleep with them? Yes to both. I’d even take them together, but nothing’s ever so simple, is it?”

 

Judy gaped at the admission for a moment. “Why isn’t it?”

 

“Oh, personal hang-ups mostly.” The vixen sighed and smiled knowingly at her. “And Jack is already Skye’s. He just won’t admit it yet. He’ll get out of the river eventually.”

 

Judy shook her head. “River?”

 

“De Nile.”

 

Judy giggled into her paws. “You said hangups. I don’t mean to press, but…”

 

“Nick and I wouldn’t work in a traditional relationship. This kind of casual intimacy is more our style.”

 

“But you said his tying worked for you.”

 

“All of him works for me, but his rope especially. It’s a stress relief and a kinky thrill, but I’m not looking to settle down just yet. Besides—” Celeste grinned as she dropped onto the dais— “I have my girlfriend, and I’m a little bratty for Nick’s tastes at times.”

 

“Oh…”

 

At that, Judy found herself very confused but strangely comforted. The knot in her stomach loosened.

 

~

 

The modeling was exactly what was advertised: modeling. The ropes were applied to both females with a feeling of routine that was frankly dull. Hip and chest harnesses went on quickly and without fanfare or exhibition. The suspension process was anything but racy and, as soon as it was done, Nick was working on the clay, barely paying attention to anything but his work. The most erotic moment was a moan of relief from Skye when Nick gave her a loop of rope to rest her muzzle in, so her neck could rest, and that was more humorous than anything else.

 

At roughly forty-minute intervals, the models changed. Jack kept an eye on their condition, checking for numbness and comfort while they were suspended. Once they were off the ground, Nick spent about ten minutes adjusting their position and refining their pose. Then he worked for half an hour, Jack would call time, and the process would repeat. As the hours dragged by, Judy found herself talking to whichever of the models were off duty, the older vixen, and Jack more than watching the art happen. It wasn’t until both Alana and Skye joined in the conversation at the same time that she realized how much time had passed. The session had run for about five hours, and it was time for lunch.

 

The meal was haphazard and relaxed, taken in the studio. The skunk and younger vixen wore robes and complained about pinching rope on their fur and how stiff they were. The buck tried to tease them with the older vixen but immediately ended up on the defensive with three females ruffling his fur. Nick found this quite funny and joined in, bantering with everyone in his particularly punny way. Judy basked in the interplay of the peculiar family environment and found herself relaxing into the ambiance. She did notice that Celeste was eating very lightly and becoming increasingly antsy as the meal wore on. An hour after the meal, Judy understood why.

 

The older of the vixen sisters finally had waited long enough. “Nicky, if we’re going to do this can we start? I can’t take the waiting.”

 

“You’re unusually eager, sis,” Skye commented over her water glass.

 

“I am. I’ve needed this for weeks! Please, Nick, can we start? Please?”

 

“You’re so cute when you beg!” Alana chirped.

 

“You’ll be begging for it too once you’ve seen what he can do,” Celeste snapped back with a hungry smile.

 

Alana’s ears shot back and glanced at Judy. All she could do is shrug. Nick’s laughter cut the tension, however, and quickly the heavy atmosphere cleared.

 

The fox stood and stretched. “Let me wash my paws so I don’t soil the rope, and we’ll get started.”

 

As he left the room, Celeste hopped up and started to disrobe with great enthusiasm. Judy noticed that both Skye and Alana were looking eager but relieved, as they made themselves comfortable on the padded dais among the pillows. Their work was done, so they could relax and enjoy. They nestled into the pillows with water bottles and the last of their nibbles, looking forward to the scene.

 

Jack, meanwhile, stood and began setting the stage. Curtains were pulled, candles were lit and a sheet was draped over the sculpture in progress before the buck rejoined the ladies on the dais. He had transformed the studio into a quiet enclosure of dancing shadows and candlelight. It was accomplished in a matter of minutes—the result of long experience and familiarity with the task. He quickly settled in and waited.

 

During all this, Judy sat and watched in tense silence. She was still feeling outclassed, but that was less a concern than it had been earlier in the day. Her insecurities had fled in the face of finally seeing a rope scene in person. The fact that it was Nick tying only added to the thrill.

 

The red fox returned a few minutes later with a cloth bundle in paw and looked around the space. Evidently, he liked what he saw because he nodded and set down his burden.

 

Nick cleared his throat and enunciated, “Celeste.”

 

“Yes, Nicky?”

 

“Quick negotiations review before we begin?”

 

Celeste beamed. “For the new faces? Sure!”

 

Nick snorted. “Has anything changed?”

 

“My right arm is feeling a little funny. I slept on it, so if you want to do suspension I want to hang on my left side.”

 

“I was planning to do a floor scene, today.”

 

Celeste hopped up and down like a kit, clapping softly. “Ooh! Goodie!”

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Not really.” The vixen rolled her shoulders, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m looking to decompress, so if we could avoid subspace I’d prefer it. Otherwise, I’ll be loopy for days. Besides that, I’m game for whatever. Now, how are you feeling?”

 

Nick looked up from his paws. “I’m feeling…hungry.”

 

“Sounds good to me.” Judy could feel the excitement radiating from the white-furred fox. “I’m up for a little pain in the play.”

 

“I’ll keep it to a reasonable measure.”

 

“And I’ll tease you in equal measure, master.”

 

“Don’t bait the rigger, sweetheart.”

 

“Bring it on.”

 

The foxes’ chuckling was echoed by Jack and Skye, which drew Judy’s attention. “What was all that?”

 

“Those two have been play partners for a while. They know each other’s limits and their rapport is very smooth.”

 

“Is she…. Is he really her master?”

 

“No. They don’t have that kind of relationship, but you also want to know if they’re having sex too, right?” Skye’s knowing look left no room for Judy to deny it. “I know Celeste wouldn’t say no if it was offered, but their mutual teasing is part of how they play. This is just them warming up.”

 

True to Jack’s words, the two foxes began what appeared to be an old dance. Celeste was already down to her panties. She began a series of stretches while Nick kneeled and opened his parcel, revealing several hanks of rope. He arranged them on the edge of the open space before walking over to Jack and handing him a pair of emergency shears.

 

Judy was confused. “Shouldn’t you keep those?”

 

It was Jack who answered. “One of my responsibilities is to keep an eye on the scene. If anything goes wrong I’ll be clear headed and quicker to get her out of the tie, so I hold on to these.”

 

“Is it that dangerous?”

 

“No. I’d say he’s experienced enough that it’s unlikely anyone would be hurt. And he’s very aware of what’s going on, so she’s perfectly safe.” Jack placed the scissors on the end table close to hand. “That said, it never pays to skimp on the precautions. If something unforeseeable happens, it’s better to be prepared and this is what we’ve learned works best.”

 

Nick chimed in saying, “It also lets me put more into the scene without worrying or being distracted. That’s a huge help to me.”

 

“And I benefit from it too,” Celeste added. “I feel more comfortable with Nick able to concentrate on the scene and Jack watching from outside. If he isn’t directly involved. he’s more likely to see if something isn’t right.”

 

“Speaking of focus,” Nick commented, turning to the almost nude female. “One last question. Organic or formal?”

 

“I say organic. Just let it flow. We can do formal ties for the next one. I want you to take away the control and that happens best when you surprise me. Make it hurt a little too, and I’ll be ever so grateful, master.”

 

“That’s a different kind of scene, vixen.”

 

“We’ll negotiate.”

 

Everyone in the room laughed. Even Judy managed a mildly confused chuckle, but that was the end of conversation for the most part. She’d been warned that they weren’t very formal or strict when it came to things like this, but with two newcomers present the focus was definitely on the show.

 

~

 

It began with what Judy could only call a stalk. Celeste stood, seemingly impatiently, while Nick walked slowly around her, letting a hank of rope play out between his fingers and drag behind him. After a few moments, she shifted her forearms up behind her back, baiting Nick to tie. Judy recognized the position from her reading, but Nick didn’t react to it. He kept his steady pace around her until he was face to face with her. Slowly, he dragged a paw across the vixen’s cheek and back to the base of the ear where he gripped. His larger paw easily spanned from the back of her neck to her throat where his thumb pressed into the underside of her jaw. He instantly had control.

 

Otherwise unmoving, he curled his arm back towards his chest pulling her along until her back was flush with his front, maintaining his grip the whole time. When she was fully entwined he placed his muzzle next to her ear and released a low, rolling growl. Judy felt an electric thrill shoot up her spine. She watched as Nick placed a footpaw against the back of her knee and took control of her legs gently but firmly away, guiding her to the ground. Then the rope came into play.

 

Judy had read and looked up as much as she could about different ties and how they were used, but in this case none of it applied. The rope went on seemingly guided by Nick’s whim and nothing else, applied with deliberate movements and a care that was intimate, despite its apparent force at times. It was chaotic and pretty in its own way, but was too alien to Judy for her to really appreciate it. She was more intrigued by Celeste’s reactions.

 

The vixen cursed and moaned by turns in response to the press of the rope or Nick’s touch. Judy couldn’t always differentiate between the two. A tug on one rope elicited a sound close to a squeal, while a similar pull garnered a moan that Judy normally associated with “alone time”. The doe squirmed in her seat, tongue flicking out to wet her lips as Celeste’s muzzle parted and an expression of abandon covered her features.

 

It seemed to Judy that for Celeste and Nick, nothing existed outside themselves. His attention was focused solely on tying and drawing reactions from her with each wrap of the rope and every knot or friction he created. As for the lovely vixen, even when her eyes opened in the direction of her audience, it was obvious that she saw nothing. She was in Nirvana and nothing else mattered.

 

The finale came when Nick finished his tie. Celeste was restrained in a very awkward side-bend position with all her limbs bound back against themselves. It was graceful to look at but clearly challenging for the vixen to experience. Her breath stuttered in and out of her body and she was continuously shifting in the attempt to escape the discomfort. It was very, very distracting. The female was wearing nothing but rope and a pair of panties, writhing on the floor. Judy was very glad she herself was female, or her state would have been glaring. It was enough for the does to reconsider her heterosexuality, but that was a question for later consideration.

 

It was then that Nick produced a metal chopstick from his kit. He slipped it into one of the leg bindings and began to rotate it clockwise against the ropes.

 

Celeste realized what was about to happen and got “You bastard!” out of her lips before the rope tightened under the improvised lever. Her voice was reduced to equal parts moaning and whimpering as the reynard played the tension of the rope against her pain. After a minute of that he released the twist and relocated the chopstick, repeating the process on the other leg. He went back and forth tightening and releasing different points of the ties on her legs while she wriggled and begged under his ministrations.

 

After a few rotations, Nick seemed satisfied with the results and set aside the utensil. Then, in an act of strength that surprised the doe, he hauled the vixen up onto her knees. The sudden change in position pulled Judy’s eyebrows and ears towards the ceiling as though gravity was reversed for both. The distress it caused and the power needed to accomplish it were thrilling. When Celeste had settled onto her knees, Nick placed his own onto her thighs and leaned up and in to tower over her. That placed all his body weight directly on her thighs, pulling a pained whine from her throat.

 

Celeste did her best to curse the todd, but she was breathless against the pain and helpless to escape. Completely under the power of her tormenter, all she could do was wriggle in place and sink further into that place within herself where there were no worries. By the time Nick lifted his weight from her legs, the vixen’s eyes were glassy with tears and, as she tipped her muzzle to look up at him, her earlier defiance had seeped away.

 

A toothy grin curved Nick’s muzzle, and he reached out to place a paw beneath her chin and tip her head back, forcing her neck into an odd angle with no resistance offered. Judy watched as Celeste’s chest rose and fell, her ears twitching in obvious distress with the effort to maintain her position against the pain of her tied limbs and the harsh arch of her neck.

 

Nick leaned in, dragging his fangs against the fur of her neck and cheek before lightly clacking his teeth. A heaving breath shuddered out of her. His nose tickled the edge of her ear and he whispered into the bound fox’s ears before suddenly pulling her back off balance. She didn’t fight in the least as she descended slowly and in overt distress back to the floor. That was when the rope started to come off. Nick took his time, lifting the bindings with the same deliberate movements and care that he put into applying them. Slowly, the discomfort in Celeste’s expression bled away to relief and finally endorphin-infused, lethargic bliss. When the last knot was undone, Nick draped the supine vixen in the ropes he used to tie her and sat nearby her head.

 

With a long, contented sigh Celeste pulled herself up to rest her head in Nick’s lap and asked, “Skye, could you bring me my water?”

 

While Skye trotted off, Alana shimmied over to Judy commenting, “I don’t know about you, but I could use a cigarette after that.”

 

The doe gave her friend a flat look. “You don’t smoke.”

 

Her friend flashed a cheeky grin. “I’ll have to start if I see too much more of that.”

 

Nick’s drawl, which was even more laconic than usual, drifted up from his seat. “Yes, the praise! Give it to me!”

 

Most of the room laughed, including Skye as she handed her sister a bottle of water.  

 

Jack wandered over smiling. “So, Judy, what did you think?”

 

“I…don’t think I have the words.”

 

“That’s ok. Take your time,” Nick drolled. “Besides, I can tell you enjoyed it.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Judy’s inarticulate response was met with a smug grin from the reynard as he tapped his nose. Judy immediately felt like she was immolating.

 

Skye sat next to her and passed a water bottle her way saying, “Don’t be too embarrassed. You aren’t the only one. The room’s thick with pheromones.” She locked eyes on her favorite prey. “And not just _female_ rabbit.”

 

In response Jack hopped up. “I think I’ll open a window, shall I?”

 

Over the next minute or so the candles were extinguished and windows were opened, flooding the room with late summer air. The close, intimate setting of the rope scene blew away in the afternoon light along with the lust-drenched atmosphere. Before long, Celeste got up to find a bite to eat, stretching languidly as she went. She paused long enough to shoot Nick a mock-dirty look and gesture to her left thigh.

 

“You just had to, didn’t you?”

 

In response, Nick shrugged and started bundling his rope, grinning all the while.

 

“Ridiculous todd.”

 

Nick paused long enough to say, “That you want to call ‘Master’, I’d remind you.”

 

“Shut up!” Celeste shot back with a smile.

 

Judy scampered to the table for a bite herself and asked Celeste, “What did he do?”

 

“Oh, that obnoxious male made sure to twist the fur on my thigh. He knows I have a cowlick there and it’ll take _so_ much product to get it to lay right again.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“It may be nothing to you, honey buns, but it’s something I hate.”

 

“The pain?”

 

“No, mussing my cowlick. He knows I’m insecure about it, and he loves teasing me about it.”

 

“You’re insecure?” Judy asked incredulously to which she got a very startled look. “I mean! I— Carrot sticks, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

 

“Whoa! Easy, bunny. It’s ok. I was just surprised,” the vixen assured her.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re funny. Have you been feeling all insecure this whole time?”

 

“Yeah…” Judy grumbled.

 

“Ok, I’ll bite. Why?”

 

“Because you’re all so… perfect looking. You’re leggy and have curves and, oh I don’t know…, you’re a fashion plate? How’s that?”

 

Celeste burst out laughing. “Oh, wow…. When I want a little ego fluffing, I know where to go. Honey bun, I’m not perfect. I’d wager I’m just as secure as you are.”

 

“I call bullshit.”

 

“I may look well put together, but, I promise you, it takes work. A lot of it.” The vixen slipped into a seat with her plate. “I have just as many flaws as anyone. I’ve just learned what to do to hide them.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“For one thing, I’ve got light brown spots in my fur all over my face.” She leaned in to stage whisper, “It looks like I’ve got mange.”

 

“It does not!” Skye interrupted. “She’s just sensitive about her freckles. She thinks they look kittish, but everyone else thinks they look adorable.”

 

Celeste scoffed. “And what about your thunder thighs, little sis?”

 

Skye slapped her robe over her lap. “Hey! That’s different!”

 

“If you’re wondering about mine, I’ve always hated my tail and my eyes,” Alana added. “If it weren’t for colored contacts and fur conditioner I’d look like a giant pink-eyed cotton swab.”

 

Skye grabbed Jack as he moved to fill a plate. “Jackie here has little scars all over his chest and shoulders from welding. He hates them.”

 

Jack’s voice was prim as he asserted, “They’re a mark of my work and a sacrifice for my art, but they aren’t esthetically pleasing.”

 

“To you maybe,” Skye was quick to point out.

 

“Oh please.” Jack waved a paw dismissively. “Spots and stripes? They clash.”

 

The girls burst out laughing.

 

Jack fought to sound offended around his laughter. “They do!”

 

When Nick join them at the table Alana piped up. “What about you, Nick? Since we all shared, it’s your turn.” Judy was mortified. “What flaw does the mighty artist have?”

 

“Me? I am male vulpine perfection.”

 

Everyone chuckled around their food.

 

Jack swallowed and faced the red fox. “Is it time?”

 

“I’d say so. If you want to tell the story, I’d appreciate it.” Nick smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m still feeling a little tender at the moment.”

 

Judy was confused at the exchange, but it was short-lived. Jack quickly ate a few more bites and cleared his palate with a glass of water before he began.

 

“I met Nick when we were both about six,” Jack began. “His parents had decided to splurge on a trip to the continent with him and, somehow, his father met my father in the local pub. They hit it off and when we relocated to Zootopia, my dad got him a job at his firm.”

 

“That’s really cool, you guys.”

 

“Alas,” Nick interjected, “The good times were not to last.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Jack cleared his throat. “Nick’s dad got sick. Badly. Vulpines are known for their weak immune systems. Even moderate illnesses can be life-threatening, so when he got sick...”

 

“He never recovered,” Nick stated quietly. “He wasted away and passed within a week. I’d turned eight the month before it happened.”

 

“The firm rallied in the wake of Wilde Senior’s death, and Nick’s mother was employed in his stead. Not the same position, but it was something. By this time, my father was a partner and had a bit of sway in the company.”

 

Nick shrugged and swallowed a mouthful. “It was rough for a while, but about a year later I was doing better. I wanted to take my first fledgling steps out into the world again, so I decided to join the Junior Ranger Scouts. It was a mistake.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“My initiation was a trap. It left me in rags that used to be my new uniform, bloodied and muzzled by the young mammals I’d thought were friends. That was when I turned it off.”

 

“Turned what off?” Judy whispered hoarsely.

 

“My feelings. Emotions and anything I thought could hurt me ended that day.”

 

Jack reached out to grab his friend’s paw. “I saw it happen. One day he was Nick, the next he was a shell. I was one of the only mammals he trusted enough to care about. We’d always been close, and this drove us closer. When my mother suggested art classes, I insisted Nick come with me.”

 

“You gave up your allowance to make it happen too,” Nick quipped at his friend. “Quite the investment, Jackie.

 

Alana filled the silence. “That’s horrible.”

 

Nick shrugged. “Bad luck. It’s life and in the past. I’ve moved on now.”

 

“But not without aftereffects,” Jack stated pointedly looking at the reynard.

 

Nick struggled for a moment before jerking his head at her. “Tell her.”

 

The buck sighed and gripped the paw again. “Nick still has trouble connecting with his emotions. Art helped, but only for a while. He was a brilliant technical artist, but there was no emotion in his work.”

 

“But that’s ridiculous!” Alana blurted. “His art is among the most evocative in his generation!”

 

Jack chortled. “And it took a night out at a terrible dance club for him to find that connection again.”

 

Nick groaned. “It really was a terrible pace. How did you get us invited?”

 

The buck grinned smugly. “You keep asking and I will never tell.”

 

Skye leaned into the buck and purred, “Did you sell your virtue?”

 

Jack stuck his tongue out at the fox before continuing. “We went to a hideous club event. It was all very 90’s—ugly fashion, terrible music, and trying far too hard to be edgy—but it did have one thing that caught the little todd’s eye. There were models suspended around the DJ’s booth.”

 

Alana mumbled “You’re kidding” around a mouthful of food.

 

Nick cackled. “Nope!”

 

Jack sighed theatrically. “It was love at first sight.”

 

Judy couldn’t contain herself. “What happened?”

 

“Being a clever fox, I snuck backstage and found the rigger. He was a very rude red panda in his fifties. All I got from him was smacked on the head with a kinbaku manual and shoved out the door with the book in paw.” Nick finally had the decency to look a little sheepish. “My obsession was born.”

 

“Suddenly, there was life in him again. His art began to blossom and…here we are.”

 

“There’s more to it than that!” Judy scoffed.

 

“Quite a lot more,” Nick confirmed, “but that’s all you’re getting today.”

 

Judy turned to the younger vixen. “Skye?”

 

The vixen smiled and shook her head. Her sister followed suit as the young doe looked to her for more.

 

“I trust you know how infuriating this is?” Judy asked the table in general. “My curiosity is killing me!”

 

“My dear young rabbit—” Nick met her eyes and her breath caught at what they saw—“The feeling is entirely mutual.”

 

~

 

The sun was setting as Judy and Alana made their way away from the house on Safflower Lane. They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts until it was time for them to part ways. At last, Alana couldn’t contain her curiosity and blurted, “What did you see?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“When he looked at you. What did you see?”

 

“I—ummm…” Judy blushed as she struggled to find the words.

 

Alana huffed a laugh. “That good, huh?”

 

“Sorta.” Judy wrung her paws. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

 

The skunk hip-bumped her smaller friend. “Try anyway. It’ll help you understand it and finally clue me in.”

 

Judy moved her nervous fiddling to her ears. “It was something like the Wizard of Paws.”

 

Alana paused and quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

 

Judy found herself pacing trying to find the words. “For a moment back there I saw him. No...masks, no illusions, no fake smiles. I saw the mammal behind the curtain.”

 

“Ok…?”

 

Alana’s tone brought Judy up short. “Sorry. I know it sounds crazy.”

 

“No. I mean it does, but it also makes a sort of sense.”

 

“Thanks,” Judy huffed. “I—For that moment it was just him and the titanic well of emotion he’s hiding. It was frightening.”

 

“He scared you?”

 

“No. I knew it was there. His vulnerability and insecurity were right there with his passion and confidence. I wasn’t afraid of him.” Judy hugged her own arms and smiled self-deprecating. “What scared me was how much I wanted to dive into it.”

  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with an new chapter! I'm slowly getting back into the swing of writing after my unplanned hiatus. Last time, we had lots of fun and feels. Now, we have the aftermath. I hope this addition to the story is worth the wait. 
> 
> My thanks to kt_valmiri for soundboarding.  
> Damlone, Blueberryandhoney, and Cimar for beta reading  
> OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing
> 
> My special thanks to all of you for reading and giving feedback so far. If you want to support Pigment & Clay or my other writing, a link to my Ko-fi account is in my profile.
> 
> And now, on to the show!

The days following the scene were a blur of mixed up emotions and adrenalin. She felt effervescent and bubbly to the point of distraction, as her sister pointed out the morning after. There was excitement, giddiness, and that particular sense of getting away with something that came with doing something naughty. However, those rose-tinted feelings boiled off over time leaving other, less savory emotions in their place. Anxiety, guilt. Even a little remorse—which was strange as she’d done nothing inappropriate herself and couldn’t name a single thing she regretted. Even the most risqué parts of the event had been fairly tame—it had been exciting, yes, but not pornographic. On top of that, she was confused. 

Throughout her, admittedly short, acquaintanceship with her new circle of friends, she’d heard plenty about their unusual relationships. Seeing them in action had been…challenging. Judy wasn’t unfamiliar with relationships. She’d had a handful in high school and college. None had lasted terribly long or been very satisfying, but she wasn’t a blushing innocent. She was a rabbit. Familiarity with that side of life was unavoidable with three-hundred relatives living in the same warren. She’d walked in on too many of her siblings to count, for one thing. 

Sadly, familiarity with the act wasn’t enough in this case. She had same-sex-oriented siblings of both genders—transgender, asexual, non-binary, and gender-fluid siblings, too. None of it really threw her. This, however, was new. The strange emotional dynamic of her new friends was hard for her to grasp and seemed like it shouldn’t work, but it did for them. Hearing about it from Jack, Nick, and Skye was one thing, but seeing them all together brought the whole thing home to Judy and left her feeling like she’d waltzed with a whirlwind. 

After four days of classes and increasing emotional discomfort, Judy finally had a break in her schedule and tracked Jack down. Finding him at his favorite café taking tea was a matter of a phone call and a twelve-minute walk from her apartment. Seeing her, Jack beckoned Judy to sit opposite him where a cup and saucer was waiting next to a plate of pastries and biscuits. 

“Judy! To what do I owe this delightful surprise?” Then, seeing her expression, he amended, “Are you well?”

“I…. Yes.” Failing to meet his eyes, she slipped into her seat. “I’m not sure, Jack. I’m feeling…lousy.”

The hare hummed and filled her cup. “You’re dropping.”

“I am?”

He nodded calmly. “It’s common after a scene.”

Judy shook her head. “But I wasn’t involved. I was just watching.”

“You still experienced it, didn’t you? You weren’t directly involved in the scene, but it caused an emotional reaction, yes?”

“Well, yeah. How could it not?”

“Then, you’re dropping.” Jack sipped his tea and moved a Danish from the tray to her plate. “You rode a largely emotional high and now it’s worn off, so you’re hurting a little for it. It’ll pass with a little time and some aftercare.”

Judy nodded. “Comforting foods, environment, and company.”

“Well remembered.” Jack lifted his cup in salute and sipped again. “That’s not all, though, is it?”

“No…”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” Judy said to her paws.

“I guarantee you it isn’t,” he countered.

She snorted and grumbled, “How could you know?”

“Jealousy never is.”

She goggled. “How did you know?”

Jack shrugged. “What else could it be?”

“Wow,” She commented bitterly. “I really am that transparent, aren’t I?”

The buck smiled kindly. “You’re young and experiencing new things. For you, it’s new and strange. For me, it’s old-hat.”

Judy looked up from her paws and met Jack’s eyes. “And that’s what confuses me.” 

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“How do you do it?” Hesitation gone, Judy’s words became a flood. “I’m jealous as hell from watching Nick tie someone he has a long-standing relationship with and I’ve only known him for a few months. I’m not even in a relationship with him!”

“I see.”

“How do you do it?” She entreated. “How do you not lose your mind seeing him do things with Celeste that you don’t get yourself?”

“Judy…” Jack hesitated. “This is not going to sound kind.”

“Is this part of the getting over yourself thing?”

He took a fortifying breath. “Yes, but it’s also part of being an adult.”

The doe bristled at his words. “I don’t like it already.”

“I don’t blame you, but, if you want to be a part of this strange little world we occupy, it’s a lesson you need to take to heart.” He shifted nervously in his seat. “The fact is, Judy, we don’t all get what we want.”

“I know that,” Judy snapped.

“Do you? You have a crush on Nick. You barely know him.” Jack lifted his cup to his lips. 

Her tone turned accusing. “And you’ve been pining after him you whole life.”

“In my own way, yes, I suppose I have. That doesn’t change the fact that I probably won’t ever have that kind of relationship with him.” Jack set down his cup and waited while Judy chewed over her thoughts.

“Is that what’s happening with you and Skye, too?” At that, Jack started as though he’d been slapped. “I’m sorry. That was a nasty thing to say.”

“No, Judy.” The professor sounded winded as he spoke. “I can see how you’d see it similarly, but you don’t know the details. Alas, that is where the devils usually hide.”

She held up her paws, feeling worse by the moment. “You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable. It’s one of my business.”

“And yet it is, in a way. You deserve to understand and you can’t unless you know the whole story.” Jack seemed to gather himself. “The reason Skye and I are not in a relationship is that I’m not ready. If I began one with her it would only end badly and I don’t want that to happen.”

Judy shook her head, uncomprehendingly. “Not ready? Why not?”

“Because I’m still mourning the death of my wife.”

The bottom fall out of her stomach. Her teacup banged about in its saucer a bit harder than intended and the clatter caused the doe to flinch curse herself inwardly for her lack of verbal and physical grace. “Oh gods. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He smiled weakly. “The last six years or so have taken the sting out of it a little.”

“What happened?”

“Cancer.” He shrugged. “We were young, very much in love and unlucky. By the time they found it, she was too far along to treat. She was buried before our fourth anniversary.” The melancholy buck stirred his tea absently for a moment. “The point is that Skye knows. She’s impatient at times, but she knows I’m not ready. Right now, we play our roles and that has to be enough. Soon I’ll be able to finally put that part of my life behind me. But I digress.”

She felt ill but had to press. “I want to ask…”

Jack held up a paw, forestalling the rest of her statement. “Another time. I promise.” 

“So, your situation with Skye is different than mine with Nick and for good reason. I’ve only known him a little while and I get that, but I’m still jealous.” Judy fidgeted in distress. “What do I do?”

“Accept it.” The older lapin sighed. “Understand it and the limitations of your relationship. If you do end up his lover, he won’t just stop being himself. His emotional issues, personality, and lifestyle will not change to suit your preferences. You will never have him all to yourself.” 

“I don’t want him all to myself,” Judy corrected. “I just want a chance to be more than…a…a...”

“Passing fancy?”

“That’s better than the word I was thinking,” she admitted.

Jack smiled in understanding. “I will say that he enjoys your company and he’s shown more interest in you than he’s shown to anyone in a long time. Beyond that…” He shrugged. “There are no guarantees either way, Judy.”

Judy hugged herself. “This doesn’t feel good, Jack.”

“Your circumstances seem bleak because you’re dropping.” Jack placed a paw on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “You’ll be back to your usual bubbly self soon. Go home and rest, do something that you find comforting. If you call Skye, she’d be happy to talk with you.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll head home.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “An early night and some junk food may do the trick.” 

“If not, don’t hesitate to call. Skye, Nick, and I are all here for you.”

She pulled herself together absently. “Thanks, Jack. See you.”

Judy left the café with her tea untouched, feeling worse than when she’d arrived. When she’d asked to talk to Jack she hadn’t intended to dredge up bad memories for him. She’d just wanted company, maybe some clarity. Now, she felt guilty for it. 

She trudged along towards home, going the long way past the food trucks with the intent to pick up a cheap meal and head home, but stopped before she got there. She wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to see Nick. That would only make things worse. Skye would be supportive, but she still felt bad for pushing Jack into telling her about their situation, so she was out. It7 was barely noon, so Alana had class and Ammy was at her work-study job. Despite her statement to Jack, Judy had no desire to go home and wallow. There was only one place left she could find solace. 

When she was a kit, sometimes the only way she could get her feelings out was to paint them. Resolved, she made tracks to the studio. 

Her easel was in the same place as always, with her paints and pallet as she’d left them. Her nearly-complete painting for mid-terms was dried and sitting to the side. Judy found a fresh canvas and pulled out her usual supplies, making sure she had plenty of everything she needed. The few pigments she was short on were signed out of the stockroom and her brushes were arranged before she turned to face her canvas. 

It took effort to start. The first brushstrokes were painful, but, before long, momentum was on her side and an image began to emerge. She had no idea why, but as she had walked all she could see was her friends’ faces, so that was what she put onto the canvas. The fear, resignation—the little moments of vulnerability and pain she had seen pass over their features. Celeste’s stress, Jacks’ melancholy, Skye’s frustration, Nick’s uncertainty, Alana’s anxiety—they reflected her own emotions. So she drew on them, mixed them with her own jealousy as it swirled through her mind, and poured them onto the canvas to create a self-portrait in features not her own. 

An few hours later, Judy felt better. Not wonderful, but much less awful. Her brushes were washed. The sun was sinking quickly, but she had something to do. Wasting no time, she located a painting case that would hold the new piece without touching the paint and loaded her painting for transport. 

Twenty minutes later, she was rapping on the door to Nick’s home. She was nervous, but resolved. When the door opened she was ready.

The red fox seemed surprised to see her. “Judy?”

“Hey. Um…. I have something for you.”

~

Nick sat quietly in his studio, very much alone. It was his preferred state for viewing new artwork, and this one was worth taking the time to appreciate. Judy had only stayed long enough to hand him the art case and explain it was her latest piece—a gift for him. He’d thanked her and watched as she slipped out into the dimming light, headed home. It had been a touch concerning, but she assured him she was alright. 

He’d moved to his studio and opened the case only to stop in surprise. With slow, deliberate movements Nick removed the still-wet painting from its container and set it to dry on a sheltered ledge. In the dying sunlight, he sat back on his uncomfortable little work stool and stared. 

It was exquisite.

The brush strokes were unrefined, coarse. The composition was shaky. It was clearly the work of a student—a student who would go far. The depth of emotion conveyed in the paint was achingly intense. He could make out the features of the mammals that provided her inspiration and the turmoil she was hoping to express. This was her pain and confusion laid bare to him—the why and who, all plain as day for him to understand. It was no piece of art destined for a gallery wall, or museum collection. It was a work of art that only he and a handful of others would ever appreciate and that would never leave his possession. That was how Jack found him when the buck returned from his late class. 

“Nicky.” Jack’s voice seemed weary. “I presume we are ordering in tonight?”

“Sorry, Jack. I meant to cook, but something came up.”

“Oh?” Jack set his briefcase and jacket down on the dais before joining the reynard and setting eyes on the canvas. “Oh.”

“Judy stopped by a while ago with this,” Nick explained. “A gift for me, she said.”

The buck chortled anemically. “I can’t say I’m surprised. She met me for tea today.”

“Ah.”

“She was dropping.” Jack sighed in frustration. “I tried to help, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it.”

“She was upset with you?” Concern flooded the fox’s mind.

“No. Herself, I think.” His tie slipped out of his collar with more force than necessary. “I told her about Emily.”

Nick turned to look at his oldest friend in surprise. 

Jack smiled ruefully. “I know.”

“Jack…”

“I gave you my word. Once this sculpture is finished, I’ll be ready to move on. I need to pay her one last tribute, and I’ll be ready.”

“Skye will be pleased,” Nick teased gently.

“Yes.” Jack chuckled softly. “It doesn’t hurt when you tease like that anymore. I guess I really will be ready.”

“Then, we have reason to celebrate.” Nick clapped his paws. “Come on.”

Jack paused with his jacket half off. “Where are we going?”

“To visit Andre.”

Jack snorted. “Nicky, his place is not one we can just walk into.”

“I do not intend to walk,” Nick replied primly. “I intend to stroll.”

In response, Jack crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“I told Andre I would be taking you to dinner to celebrate sometime soon and he should reserve a table for us at all times.” Nick grinned rakishly. “He agreed. Now, go freshen up while I get changed and warn him.”

The hare’s voice trembled. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course not, but I did anyway,” Nick retorted evenly. “Now, let’s not waste this favor I’ve asked of our beloved corsac fox, shall we?”

In response, Jack walked over and wrapped his arms around his friend’s chest. “Thank you.”

Nick embraced him back briefly before disentangling himself from the hare and shooing him towards the door. “Go! We have dinner to get to.”

“And a few things to discuss.”

“Females, you mean.”

“Among other things, Nick.” Jack planted a kiss on his cheek and patted his shoulder before leaving the room.

As soon as the buck was gone, Nick went to his old rotary phone and placed a long-overdue call. 

~

Judy woke the following morning feeling emotionally sore, but largely mended. She levered herself out of her bed just after dawn, showered quickly, and was finishing her breakfast when her sister dragged herself into the room.

“Mornin’, Ammy.”

The grunt she got in reply was surly at best.

“Didn’t get much rest?” Judy’s voice slipped into saccharine sarcasm. “Perhaps because you had too much coffee…. And fidgeted all night? Again?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Amanda grumbled. “This detoxing stuff is for the birds.”

Judy fixed her sister with an even gaze. “Better now than after a heart attack.”

“Thank you, Judy,” Amanda grumbled as she put the tea kettle on. “What are your plans for today?”

“Class. What else?”

Suddenly the younger Hopps was all grins. “With Professor Hot Stuff?”

“No,” she replied blandly. “Just a watercolor workshop and Art History 414.”

Ammy thought for a moment. “Females in the Avant-Garde movement?”

“Interesting class, but a little...” Judy searched for the right word.

“Tedious?” Amanda supplied.

“Repetitive. I’ve covered the same material twice already in other classes. But it’s course credits and looks good for the master’s program, so why not?”

“Any new ‘assignments’ from your boyfriend?” Amanda inquired cheekily.

Judy’s phone took that opportune moment to chime. “Knowing my luck, that’s him.” A moment later she added, “And it is.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about that, Jude.”

“I’m not sure.”

“What? Why?” The younger doe eyed her sister like she’d lost her mind. “Last I checked you were ready for anything and everything he could offer you.”

Judy blushed deeply. “I didn’t say I’d lost interest.”

“Then, what has you so…despondent?”

“I’m not despondent. More like anxious.” Judy pocketed her phone. “I guess you could say we’re past the honeymoon stage.”

“Judy…you’re still in the ‘getting to know you’ stage.” Ammy snorted. “Does Mister Fancy Fox have a flaw at last?”

“He’s got plenty of flaws. This is just something that I’m having trouble with.”

“Which is…?”

Judy stood and grabbed her rucksack. “Private.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Amanda huffed before hugging her sister. “You’re a big girl, and you’re entitled to your secrets. Just remember that I’m here to help you if you want to talk. And I won’t tell mom.”

“Unless she interrogates you.”

Amanda shook her head. “She hasn’t asked since break. Whatever you said to her must have worked. You may be in the clear. It’s your call either way though.”

“Thanks, Ammy.” Judy gave her sister one last squeeze. “I’ll think about it. I gotta run.” 

Outside the door, Judy pulled out her phone and opened the text she’d received. It was odd. She didn’t think he owned a cell phone, but the text was definitely his.

When you’re done for the day, stop by. We need to discuss a few things. -NW

For a giddy moment she wondered if he’d typed it out on an old flip-phone. The only communication device she had known the fox owned until now was a telephone as old as she was. It also didn’t help matters. The simple fact was that he had one and now she had his number. For half a moment she was every teenager who’d been texted by their crush. 

Was it a sign? What did it mean? It had to be a good thing. But he wanted to “talk”. Was that a bad thing only when you were in a relationship? Weren’t they already, sort of? They were more than acquaintances. Did that mean friends? They were also talking about kinky things, so was that more than friends? How much more? More more? Or just more? Or less? 

He didn’t think of relationships the same way she did, so that was a disconnect. Maybe that was what he wanted to talk about. Judy’s anxiety began climbing again. It was eight-ten. Her workshop started in twenty-five minutes. Her one class of the day ended at three-fifty-five in the afternoon. That made it approximately eight hours until she would find out. 

The longest, least productive eight hours of her life later, Judy found herself thrumming with nerves—again—at Nick’s door. The theme was becoming troublesome in its consistency. Her workshop was effectively a bust and Art history 414 was agonizing in its tedium. She discovered that her anticipation was a very effective method for ruining her focus, even on topics she knew by virtual rote. She was positive she’d bombed her quiz in 414.

That left the rabbit in poorer spirits and higher tension than when she had left the house. 

When Nick answered the door, his expression melted from expectant to concerned in a couple blinks. “Judy, are you well?”

“I’ll be better once I know why I’m here,” she replied tersely.

His head cocked in surprise. “It seems my message only served to upset you.”

“Not upset. I’ve been distracted all day because of it and I wasn’t feeling wonderful in the first place, so tanking a quiz in a throwaway class didn’t help.”

“Ah,” the fox replied sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. Technology and I don’t get along very well, so I limit my use of it to necessities as much as I can.”

Judy smiled, softening the atmosphere. “I admit I was surprised. I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I own one of the infernal things.” Nick grumbled in half-jest. “But I loathe it—Irritating, electronic pop-tarts, the lot of them.”

She chuckled. “I see you and Maurice have that in common.”

“One of the pillars of our friendship.” He breathed a small sigh of relief. “Mutual loathing of personal electronics.”

“So, why did you want to see me?”

“Ah.” Nick led the way in to the kitchen. “Jack and I spoke yesterday. It was a rather involved conversation and one of the topics that came up was your reaction to the scene.”

“He told you I was dropping.” Judy couldn’t help but feel put out with the buck.

“Yes. And I felt responsible, so I wanted to offer aftercare.”

She paused mid-thought. “You what?”

“Want to offer aftercare. I know you understood me.”

She tried not to sound too eager. “What did you have in mind?”

Now, it was Nick who chuckled. “Nothing lascivious, if that was where your mind went.”

Judy shrugged and smiled a little brighter.

“As I don’t know exactly what would work for you, I was going to offer a few staples. A warm blanket, a cup of hot tea, comforting words and affirmations…. Maybe a hug, as I know you’re partial to them…”

“Yes please!” She squeaked out.

“So, you don’t want to wait for me to mention the ear-stroking.”

Judy felt said appendages heating up. “If you don’t, I’ll hurt you.” She immediately slapped her paws over her mouth. 

Nick burst into laughter. 

Some minutes later, Judy was nestled into a particularly comfy spot on Nick’s couch, wrapped in a blanket so soft it was criminal and sipping an herbal tea made up of rosehips, purple nettles, chamomile and dandelions, while Nick stroked her head and ears. It was bliss. 

She hated to ruin it. “Nick…I have to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Why didn’t you offer Celeste aftercare after the scene?”

Nick smiled at her, seeming to convey how pleased he was that she’d asked a good question. “Part of my arrangement with her and her girlfriend is that Melanie, not I, provide the aftercare.”

“Ok…?”

“Part of the follow up to the scene was her aftercare. Celeste is one of life’s great extroverts. The social interaction was a huge help to her. When she got home, Melanie was no doubt all over the rest of it.”

“Why wasn’t she there for the event?” Judy inquired.

“Work. Melanie is a photographer striving to make a name for herself in the art world, but in the meantime she’s doing portraits for infants.”

Judy giggled. “But you can’t do the aftercare.”

“No. I can tie, torture, and tease.” Nick snorted. “We even have the leeway to negotiate for sex in the scene, but once the scene is done—no matter what happens during the scene—Melanie gets the rest and it is none of my business. Her stipulation, not mine.”

“I guess she takes her relationship seriously.”

“She does.”

The words were out of her mouth before she thought. “And how do you view relationships?” 

“Oh! The bunny has a spine!” The fox seemed relieved to escape into jokes again.

Judy doubled down and ran with it. “Yep! I’m due some answers.”

“I see how it is.” Nick huffed in mock-dramatic form. “I give an inch and you walk all over me.”

“I’ve read about that kink. Is that what you’re into? Is it fun?” Judy asked with a cheeky blush spreading over her face.

“Sadly for your fem-dom fantasies, I’m not. But good to see you’re enthusiastic in your research.”

“So how do you view relationships?” she pressed. 

The todd leaned back, allowing her to sit up and face him squarely, but he avoided her eyes. “The ones I have are fulfilling, and I enjoy them.”

“Come on. You’re still a young Reynard. You still have... other needs.”

“Yes, Carrots. I do have a sex drive,” Nick deadpanned. 

Judy slapped her forehead. “And I’m trying to be tactful around people who have no shame.”

“It’s refreshingly wholesome, I’ll admit,” the fox grinned rakishly, and Judy felt her face warm again.

“Well?”

Nick paused for a moment. “You know what Jack has to deal with on campus, I presume? His admirers?”

“Yes. He gets quite a bit of attention, doesn’t he?”

“My own problem is similar,” Nick confided. “With a certain amount of fame comes…uncertainties.”

“You talk about your reputation like it’s…”

“Annoying? It can be.,” Nick grumbled. “Judy, I’ll be plain. Emotional investment isn’t easy for me.”

“I remember.”

His face slid into a mou of distaste. “Now, how easy would you suppose it is for me to build emotional attachments when I’m not sure it’s me they see.”

Judy’s head cocked at the incongruity. “Not you?”

“Fame, money, talent, blah blah blah…” Nick flapped his paws like ducks quacking. “Most of my ‘relationships’ spawn from my work, so what do they see? Me or my art?”

“That’s what has you worried?”

“It may sound silly to you, but there it is.” Nick shrugged in a defeated manner. “I outgrew short-term relationships a long time ago. One-night stands and single-use friendships don’t interest me. Frankly, they do more harm than good. If I’m going to have a relationship with someone, I want to get something out of it that’s worth the effort.”

“So you avoid them.” There was no question in her mind.

“I’m not adverse to the idea, but it’s not something I actively pursue. I have my friends and play partners.” Nick’s expression lightened as the topic turned. “It’s enough for the most part. I keep an eye peeled for the chance to have something more, but that’s…”

“Difficult,” Judy supplied.

“Indeed,” Nick graced her with a sly, if tremulous, grin. “Which is why I’ve decided to ask you to dinner.”

“You what?”

“You’re guaranteed to not succeed if you never try.” He seemed to steel himself. “Next week, so you have time to sufficiently panic. Maybe ask for advice from female friends or go shopping to solve out your wardrobe. Put together an outfit.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Is that a yes? Oor should I hurriedly excuse myself from the room to die quietly of embarrassment?” Judy noticed him flexing the tension out of his paws. 

She couldn’t help but ask, “Is this for real?”

His was back into his usual wry humor instantly. “I suspect that if you were dreaming we’d be wearing—and speaking—a lot less.”

“As you’ve pointed out, I’m a healthy young female,” Judy sassed right back. “It’s only to be expected.”

“Indeed.” Nick’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Seeing you like this makes me wonder which one of us is the predator.”

At that, Judy realized she was leaning forward, crouched in a posture similar to those she’d seen felines adopt before a pounce. “I remain unapologetic.”

Nick burst into laughter as Judy sat back and giggled. 

“Yes. I’ll go to dinner with you, Nick. But I’ll need details.”

“You will get only the dress code.” He held up a finger forestalling her. “The rest is a surprise.”

Judy felt her heartrate spike. “So, what do I need to wear?”

“The top layer needs to be nice, but informal.” His smile turned suggestive. “Beyond that…is up to you to decide.”

“You have high hopes for your first date, Mister Wilde.” She crossed her arms, but her goofy grin gave her away—and she knew it.

Nick smirked right back, making her blush. “I know that what one wears can change how one feels. I may never see what you wear under your clothes, but you’ll know it’s there and it’ll affect your mindset. You get to decide where you want your mind to be during our date. Acting on it is another matter entirely.”

“So you’re holding out for the third date?” Judy fired back. She couldn’t believe how cheeky she was being.

“My dear young lady, I never plan that far in advance.” Nick shifted forward and refilled their tea cups. “Every day is a new opportunity and a new experience, so when we decide to take that step it’ll happen. Until then, well, we still have our dreams, don’t we?”

~

Judy didn’t get another word out of him on the topic that night. They said good night ,and Judy was home in her little shared apartment before six. It was there that her sister found her and was terrified at the change she saw. 

“Ammy!” 

“What?!”

“I know you’re free tomorrow, and I need some help getting ready for a date next week. So I’ve called a few friends, and I really want your opinion on what I choose. So tomorrow we’re going shopping!”

The younger Hopps backed away slowly. “Who the hell are you and where’s my sister?”


End file.
